Tails up

TAILS UP

TAILS UP

BY

EDGAR C. MIDDLETON

* I

LATE FLIGHT SUB-LIEUTENANT R.N.

HOLDER OF ROYAL AERO CLUB'S CERTIFICATE

AUTHOR OF "AIRCRAFT," "THE WAY OF THE AIR"

"GLORIOUS EXPLOITS OF THE AIR," "AIRFARE," ETC.

SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, HAMILTON,
KENT & CO. LTD., 4 STATIONERS'
HALL COURT : : LONDON, E.C-4

Copyright
First published 1918

TO

G. B.

PREFACE

THE development of flying, the work of the
pilots and observers, the new, sure shield
of the British Empire in the skies, are beyond
all comment, and need no explanation. But
the doing on't, the story of it, the daunt-
less courage of it, have made our hearts leap.
The daring and the gallantry of it have
made the horrors of bloody war almost worth
the while. They have put History to shame,
and dwarfed even the Odyssey of Homer to
insignificance. Ill befits a feeble pen to
attempt to trace the deeds of their Golden
Book. In due humbleness has this volume
been compiled.

While writing this brief Preface, I have to
offer my grateful thanks to the editors of
CasselVs Magazine, Daily Chronicle, Daily
Express, Evening News, Flying, New York
Sun, and The Star, for their courtesy in allow-
ing me to make use of certain material

12 PREFACE

which has already appeared in their respective
journals; also to Major-General Ruck, C.B.,
for his introduction, and Lieutenant-Colonel
John Buchan for his foreword.

E. C. M.

LONDON, 1918.

INTRODUCTION

BY MAJOR-GENERAL RUCK, C.B.

(President, Aeronautical Institute of Great
Britain)

IN this volume Mr. Edgar Middleton brings
home in vivid fashion the everyday life of
our airmen in the field and on the seas,
including realistic descriptions of many of
those dramatic incidents which are part and
parcel of their existence.

It is well that such stories should be
written now they are fresh in our minds and
in the heat of the struggle : it will hearten
us up. They will also serve as a reference for
future writers in more peaceful times, when
it may be possible to analyse the conditions
which have given rise to so great a devotion,
so complete a triumph of soul over body.

There is no place here for individual praise

—a personal compliment would be almost an

insult ; but I may perhaps be allowed to add

13

14 INTRODUCTION

my warmest appreciation of the humanity,
the dislike of notoriety, and the light-hearted-
ness which punctuate these records.

This war is but the prelude to still greater
developments in our social history. Is it not
to be hoped that the qualities shown by our
gallant airmen, their courage, chivalry, self-
denial, enterprise, and buoyancy, will find
adequate expression in the new order of
things to which we have to adjust ourselves ?

As regards the military value of these deeds
of skill and self-sacrifice, it is obvious to all
and is of vital importance. If our Flying
Services had either failed or had fallen short
of the high standard they have reached, our
present position would have been a most
precarious one ; whereas now it is generally
acknowledged that the overwhelming. superi-
ority in the air which, with the assistance of
our Allies, we have every reason to expect in
the near future, will lead, ultimately, to
the complete success of our cause.

All honour, therefore, to those who have
done so much to make such a position pos-
sible, and I trust that before the account is
closed some recognition may be given to
those earlier pioneers in aviation, or to their

INTRODUCTION 15

memories, who, in spite of every discourage-
ment and much ridicule, held to their
opinions, carried out the preliminary in-
vestigations and trials (many gave their
lives also), and laid the foundation for the
splendid work of our Flying Service.

R. M. RUCK,
Major-General.

May 2$ih, 1918.

FOREWORD

BY COLONEL JOHN BUCHAN

(Director, British Ministry of Information)

I AM glad that Mr. Edgar Middleton has put
together another collection of his admirable
aircraft sketches. He knows what he is
writing about, he has himself served in the
Air Forces, and he has a sense of drama and
the picturesque which can do justice to the
amazing romance of the aeroplane in war.
Modern science has depressed the human
factor in other arms, and soldiering to-day is
in the main a matter of masses and the
machine. But the same cause has in the
Flying Service worked an opposite result.
There the possession of one kind of machine
takes a man out of the grip of the machine
and sets him adventuring in a free world
as in the old days of war. No individual
exploits of earlier campaigns have ever

2 17

i8 FOREWORD

excelled those of the heroes of our Air Service.
The incredible has become the normal, and
Tertullian's paradox is sober truth : Est
impossible? Certum est.

J.B.

CONTENTS
CHAPTER I

PAGB

TRADITION . . 25

CHAPTER II

A CLEAR HORIZON ^ . • • 41

CHAPTER III

FROM DAWN TO TWILIGHT 55

CHAPTER IV
THE AIRMAN'S LOG .... 67

CHAPTER V

A PAGE OF HISTORY .... 89

CHAPTER VI

THE DAWN PATROL .... 99

19

20 CONTENTS

CHAPTER VII

PAGE

SOME V.C.S OF THE AIR . . , 107

CHAPTER VIII

WATCHERS OF THE SKIES . . . I2Q

CHAPTER IX

THE NAVY THAT FLIES . . . 137

CHAPTER X

FROM SHORE TO SHORE . . . 155

CHAPTER XI

AN AERIAL PUSH .... 169

CHAPTER XII

WORK AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE ROYAL

FLYING CORPS .... 185

CHAPTER XIII

MOONLIGHT OVER THE BATTLE . . 207

CONTENTS 21

CHAPTER XIV

PAGE

ACES AND PAWNS .... 223

CHAPTER XV

MARVELS OF THE AIR . . , 241

CHAPTER XVI

ARMAGEDDON FROM THE SKIES . . 255

CHAPTER XVII

THE AERIAL DUEL — AND AERIAL DUELLISTS 273

CHAPTER XVIII

SAWBONE SOLILOQUIES . . . 289

CHAPTER XIX
L'ENVOI ...... 303

TRADITION

CHAPTER I

TRADITION

" GOOD stories/' said an airman friend of
mine, recently home on leave from a hard
spell of flying over the lines — " to tell the
truth, I know very few. At least, there's
one or two stunts that — that fellows in our
squadron have put up," he sheepishly apolo-
gised.

He was in dread terror lest I should ask
him any personal reminiscences. Yet, to my
knowledge, he had brought down fully half
a score of Huns, had narrowly escaped
death in a flaming aeroplane, and had
been badly winged by Hun " Archies." He
was willing enough to talk of others, but
of himself — not a word.

Thus, unknowingly, he plumbed the spirit
that prevails through every rank of our
Flying Service. The air of nonchalance with
which the most daring raids are accomplished,

25

26 TAILS UP

to those unacquainted with the British
temperament, would savour unfavourably of
" swank " and bravado. Yet it is genuine
enough, for it has been developed in every
schoolboy sports-field in the country — that
spirit of " doing one's bit to the best of one's
ability, and keeping one's mouth shut very
close about it."

Before he took his leave, however, I man-
aged to draw him out sufficiently to tell me
of one cool pilot of the R.F.C., who, by every
theory of logic, should be wearing a " brass-
hat " and directing an army corps. This
enterprising youngster — who, by the way,
spoke German fluently — landed one dark
night beside a German aerodrome. Leav-
ing his machine near at hand, he coolly
approached the sentries, chatted with them
for a few seconds, and walked on into the
enclosure, where he chanced upon a German
officer. The latter he plied with polite
questions — particularly whether there were
any Gotha machines in the sheds and where
they were situated.

Having obtained the necessary position, he
thanked his informant politely, and strolled
back to his machine. A few minutes later

TRADITION 27

he was in the air, and within three he had
" fanned-down " sheds and machines to
flaming ruins. " Not really a bad stunt/'
condescended my friend, in conclusion.

" Really, not at all bad/' one would agree.
In some ways it reminded me of an incident
I had been witness to when I was over there
myself. For the sake of flying proprieties
we will call him Smith.

Lend your imagination to the scene. A
smoke-clouded mess-room ; in various re-
cumbent positions, varying degrees of pilots ;
being British, all silent and painfully shy.
As the squadron commander comes in, one
—little past schoolboy age — rises from his
seat and smartly salutes.

" Oh, you've just come in," says the com-
mander. " I heard you had a fight."

" Yes, sir," replies the boy breathlessly.
" B— - and I met six Hun machines. But

my gun jammed after half a round. ' B

brought down one, I think. I saw it spinning
over their lines."

" Where is B— — ,by the way? " inquires
the Commander.

" Not back yet, sir," is the reply ; " but I
saw him cross the lines behind me."

28 TAILS UP

" Engine trouble, I suppose ? J:

" I don't know. But I say, sir— they were
rabbits. They wouldn't even wait."

The squadron commander smiles. The
boy resumes his seat with a blush ; borrows
a cigarette, and is soon buried deep in an
illustrated paper. Ten minutes before he
was 10,000 or 12,000 feet in the air, fighting
for dear life, hopelessly outnumbered.

Ball, Bishop, Guynemer, Hawker, Insall,
Robinson, Warneford — it is all the same
story. Point of view, of course, depends on
how one looks at it. The enemy pins his
faith in development of machines only to
crumple up helplessly before the daring in-
itiative of British flying youth . These knight-
errants of the skies have created a chapter of
British history, prouder epic than ever Homer
sang.

A short-lived four years of blood-agony
has startled a watchful world with an Italian
airman delivering a letter, by hand, from his
Sovereign to the King of England, a thousand-
mile-odd non-stop flight in a frail biplane ;
a French airman hovering over Berlin; and
giant Zeppelins brought flaming to earth by
a tiny monoplane and stouter biplanes.

TRADITION 29

Of the human element, the unsatisfying
fragments which every now and then struggle
into print convey the barest inkling of the
development of the man. That he has de-
veloped in his craft is undeniable. But
exactly in what manner, or in what particular
phase of flying, it is difficult to say. It must
be remembered that the Air Service, both in
years and experience, is a youthful corps,
attracting youth. And, here again, our
standardised theories have been sadly dis-
torted in the searching crucible of blood and
shell. Youth, invariably, was held to be
irresponsible ; with warm imagination, but
little thought. How clearly the air has
negatived that belief.

From intimate acquaintance of young air-
men, some successful and some otherwise,
I can state that flying develops strength of
character and powers of reflection almost
abnormally. Perhaps it is that the pursuit
of the air is so flavoured with conflicting
experiences ; in a single flight a man will
gain more wisdom and more sound common-
sense than in a whole year living under normal
conditions on the surface of the earth. Per-
haps it is due to the fact of that long grim

30 TAILS UP

tussle— and tussle it surely is— that he must
wage with Death from the moment he leaves
the ground until he has landed safely again.
But I have known youths — irresponsible,
light-headed, unthinking youths, when they
have first reported at a station— develop in
a few short weeks into thoughtful, cautious
men. The laughter, the gaiety, and care-free
attitude was still apparent ; but underneath—
in that particular part of his mental anatomy
that is as sacred to a man as his life — some
wonderful change had taken place. In fact,
it is common knowledge amongst airmen
that the more hours a man spends in the air,
the less daring he becomes, the less risk he
takes. You never see an " old hand " doing
" stunts/'

I venture a little story to illustrate my
point ; meaning, of course, to indicate how
necessary in war- flying a man's brain-power
has become. Shall we call him Lieutenant
B— — ? There is nothing fictitious about

this story. I daresay B himself would

recognise it at a glance. But there are certain
formalities to be observed. " During a fight
lasting three hours and forty minutes he
successfully registered tw7o siege-batteries

TRADITION 31

on a hostile battery, and observed 100 and
150 rounds respectively/' Imagine the skill
and thought required to carry out an opera-
tion of this nature for so long a time. Imagine
the hundred and one little subterfuges in
which he had to find resource, to save himself
from destruction by hostile anti-aircraft fire
or enemy machines.

And a little later : " He made four trips
and dropped twelve H2-lb. bombs on two
aerodrome objectives. Also he carried out
a large number of successful counter-battery
and trench registration shoots under exceed-
ingly unfavourable weather conditions" — it
takes a wise man to encounter Nature in her
own province, and to get away with it — " and
has at all times carried out his duties in a
thoroughly keen and able manner, dis-
playing a magnificent spirit of dash and
energy."

Amazing are the situations which occur in
aerial fighting. And they require all a pilot's
thought to extricate himself. Here is one
instance, concerning the manner in which
a solitary British seaplane beat off the com-
bined attack of five enemy craft, in open
fight. With a companion, this pilot had set

32 TAILS UP

out from an English coastal base, for re-
connaissance patrol.

Somehow, once they got out to sea, they
became separated. Seaplane number one
was already far ahead, when three German
single-seaters dived from the clouds on to
the rearmost machine, opening fire from
two to three hundred yards. Machine-gun
bullets splattered the British machine from
all sides. For the time being, all he could
do was to keep up a running fight.

Then brains began to tell. Suddenly his
machine veered from side to side, in sharp
zigzag sweeps. Not only did this manoeuvre
serve to put the German gunners off their
mark, but also it made it possible for his
wireless-operator and engineer to bring their
rear guns into play.

Very soon the engineer, with a rapid and
accurate "burst," hit the leading enemy
machine, and brought him crashing down
to the water's edge. The others hesitated ;
then turned and flew off rapidly towards the
Belgian coast. Compare this deed with those
of the pilots of the early days.

The 1914 pilot, gallant and daring as he
invariably was, was but a puny weakling of

TRADITION 33

his craft compared with his brethren of 1917.
Piloting an aeroplane was the last — and only
—stage of his education. Operations were
carried out after the manner of the privateers-
men of the Middle Ages. In one single flight
he would combine reconnaissance, bombing,
direction of artillery fire, and aerial combat.
Such a flight to-day would end invariably in
disaster. Half a mile out from home he
would be pounced upon by some enemy
fighting-scout, lurking behind the clouds, and
his exit would be rapid. Rifle-range often
limited his altitude of operations. Now
the latest type anti-aircraft guns find tar-
gets at a height of over 15,000 feet.

These few facts are written down with no
intention of belittling the prowess of those
hardy pioneers of the early days, who in
courage were giants but in skill little more
than children. I remember well one of those
early meetings at Hendon, long enough before
the war to be forgotten. It was a Sunday
—usually a field-day of local conception and
construction. All manner of quaint " crocks "
were wheeled out on to the aerodrome for a
try-out. Half the morning would be spent
in getting planes and engine attuned. Then
3

34 TAILS \ UP

the aspiring airman would clamber into his
machine. The spectators would surge for-
ward, coaxing and cheering, in the vain delu-
sion that they were at last to witness a real
long flight.

Unhappy faith to be so shattered ! Away
would dance the plane, engine roaring, bound-
i ing, and bumping like a giant grasshopper
across the unlevel surface of the ground, until,
with a last painful effort, she would soar
into the air, and come heavily to earth again,
a few hundred yards ahead. More tinkering,
more bouncing across the ground, and more
short-lived leaps. But this unfortunate—
and usually costly — amusement was mainly
instrumental in paving the way for the aero-
plane of to-day, also the pilot.

Yes, they certainly had pluck, those
pioneers. For how else would the hundred
antediluvian craft and sixty-six pilots of the
original Flying Corps have driven off the
systematised attacks of numerous and highly
organised squadrons ? And of them is related
one of the cheeriest yarns of the war. But
it will first be necessary for us to carry our
minds back from the roaring Flanders battle-
field to the comparative seclusion of home.

TRADITION 35

On a large table in the corner of the grill-
room of one of the most fashionable restaur-
ants in London could have been seen, one
autumn evening in 1915, the setting for a most
sumptuous repast. Other diners were not
slow to observe the lavish display of flowers
and glitter of wineglasses, and expressed
their feelings somewhat pointedly concerning
this unnecessary wartime extravagance. The
maitre d'hotel, cross-examined, was politely
discreet. "Merely a party of military
gentlemen who desired to celebrate in
suitable fashion some anniversary of the

war."

With cantankerous references to temporary
gentlemen, the pessimists applied themselves
to their meals and waited with indignant eyes
the arrival of the party. They were not
long to arrive. But as the first guest came
in, their feelings underwent a sudden change,
for he was being pushed by a kindly waiter
in a bath-chair — a poor maimed figure of a
man, without one arm and with both his legs
missing, and on the left breast of his khaki
tunic he bore the wings of the Flying Corps
and the decoration of a Companion of the
Distinguished Service Order. The second

36 TAILS UP

and third guests were wheeled in in a similar
conveyance. The fourth was led in — a great,
broad-chested youth, blind in both eyes;
while the last two men hobbled painfully across
on crutches.

But, at least, if they had paid the dread
price of war, they had not lost the happy
faculty of enjoying life. The party bubbled
over with mirth. Merry peals of laughter
rang across the table. Toasts were pledged
and toasts drunk. The conversation scintil-
lated with gay quip and happy jest. And
whilst many looked on with tear-dimmed
eyes, they alone knew it was good to live,
good to laugh and joke, good to enjoy the
savoury dishes placed before them. For
they had earned the right.

Of eight who had crossed in the twilight
of that August evening but a year ago, only
six remained ; the other two had gone to
swell the already lengthy Roll of Honour.
A year ago that night they had solemnly
pledged that if they were spared they would
meet together at this same dinner-party.
Those who could had kept their word. But
in that brief twelvemonth had passed a life-
time of unimaginable agony. They had been

TRADITION 37

instrumental in guiding the destiny of two
great nations and assuring the sacred safety
of the modern civilised world.

A CLEAR HORIZON

39

CHAPTER II

A CLEAR HORIZON

NOWADAYS flying is highly specialised in
every branch. The flying commanders are
young men, who possess, necessarily, more
initiative and imagination than their grey-
haired military predecessors. The Army
might be content with fitting square pegs
into round holes, but in the Flying Corps they
believed, and, moreover, insisted, on having the
right man in the right place.

For these youthful authorities it required
no great mental effort to realise that essenti-
ally scientific professions as photography
and wireless operating were not matters for
hastily trained naval and military men, but
rather for civilian experts. Highly necessary
it was that these experts should be inculcated
with the Service point of view. And to this
end they were graduated through a five- to
seven-months' course that included instruction

41

42 TAILS UP

in military duties and drills, military aero-
nautics, a course of technical instruction
dealing with engines, construction of aero-
planes, and the theory of flight. They were
taught to fly Service machines under Service
conditions, aerial tactics, bombing, combat,
and artillery observation, after which they
were told off as specialists to respective wings.

In the long period of training a man's
particular faculty would invariably display
itself. Civilian experts were intended
throughout for their particular profession.
A youngster exhibiting aptitude in bomb-
dropping had his attentions officially con-
fined to that matter henceforth ; an expert
map-reader found himself doomed to recon-
naissance for evermore; and — rarest species
of all — the aerial fighter passed his days in
mock combats in the clouds.

What was the result of this detailed course
of instruction ? To-day, on every front of
war, we find the British airman holds the
skies. The craft have been specialised with
the pilots. There are speedy fighting-scouts,
slower and more cumbersome reconnaissance
machines, and huge double-engined battle-
planes, each with its special purpose. And

A CLEAR HORIZON 43

the modern aeroplane has been developed to
such a pitch that it almost flies itself. In
fact, it is one of the axioms of fight, when the
pilot or his machine has been hit — the best
thing to do is to do nothing. " When you're
hit, just take your hands off the stick/' is the
advice of experienced pilots. " If there's
sufficient left in her, and you're high enough
above the ground, she'll right herself ; if not,
there's nothing can save her."

On this particular matter my nervous
friend waxed almost violent. " What's the
use," he complained, " of sitting in a mechani-
cal contraption that works itself, and you're
the dummy that pulls the controls ? One
might as well be a tram-driver. I don't
believe even that would be as boring."

I am afraid his viewpoint was somewhat
exaggerated. The familiarity of train-
travelling has been long enough with us to
breed contempt, but not long enough to elim-
inate an occasional catastrophe. Daily we
read of motor-car and tram accidents and
collisions at sea, and more and more, un-
fortunately, of mishaps in the air.

In this manner a certain British pilot
had recently the most unnerving experience

44 TAILS UP

possible. On the Western front, and flying
alongside another machine at an altitude of
well over 10,000 feet, he was horrified to
see the engine of the other man's machine
burst into flame. The fight for life that
ensued passes words and imagination. The
pilot, who was flying alone, hurriedly tore off
his flying-coat, and attempted to beat down
the growing flames. The first man could see
the yellow, red tongues licking slowly farther
and farther towards the pilot's seat, and
cursed himself for his own helpless position.
He must sit strapped down, while another
man was being slowly roasted to death
within fifty yards of him.

Suddenly the pilot of the flaming machine
seemed to realise that any hope of life was
impossible. He smiled, stood up in his
machine, then waved his hand and calmly
dived overboard into space.

" I have nightmares of that sight to this
day," the other pilot told me. "It was too
horrible for words."

Principally, specialisation has made pos-
sible double the amount of flying in half
the time. In the month of September
1917 alone, 285 German aeroplanes were

A CLEAR HORIZON 45

either brought or driven down. That is
more in one month than in the entire 1914
campaign.

In the daily communiques we find such
extracts as "Ninety-eight bombs were dropped
by our aeroplanes during the day on enemy's
billets and hutments/' or, " Over 10,000
rounds were fired by our aeroplanes from
machine-guns at hostile infantry in trenches
and shell-holes on the road."

Here in England we have been raided by
Zeppelin and aeroplane, by day and by night,
in moonlight and darkness. In the full glare
of noon a squadron of Gothas circled London
with all the nonchalance of a practice man-
oeuvre. What mind could have conceived
these happenings, say, four years ago ?

Another curious development is that of
night-flying. Nowadays, considerably more
work is carried out in the air by night than
by day. Only a short time ago fourteen
giant Capronis, in a flight of over a thousand
miles, raided Cattaro by night, and returned
without casualty.

On moonlight nights the sky is alive with
speeding, phantom shapes. By twos and
threes, and sometimes in whole squadrons,

46 TAILS UP

the enemy comes creeping over our anti-
aircraft fire to bomb our hospitals and
stretcher-bearers, until British craft flying
out to meet them, they make off at top
speed. In similar fashion, well-ordered
British bombing formations are to be heard
—and seen — passing overhead, to disappear
later over the enemy's country accompanied
by an incessant yapping of anti-aircraft guns.
Others fly off singly or in pairs, bound for all
manner of strange adventures.

One of these roving commissions chanced
upon a hitherto undiscovered enemy aero-
drome one night. He planed lower to in-
vestigate. The landing-ground was ablaze
with light, and there, drawn up in a long line,
were a squadron of Gothas about to set out
for a bombing expedition in our lines. Half
a dozen British bombs were sufficient to
destroy at least half the assembled craft and
to put off the anticipated raid for a day or
so. Then the British pilot calmly proceeded
on his original mission.

Meanwhile a couple of kindred craft in-
dulged in the unusual pastime of flying down
the main streets of a town at the level of the
housetops, firing at bodies of hostile troops,

A CLEAR HORIZON 47

marching up to reinforce their hard-pressed
companies in the front-line trenches.

On shore and sea alike war in the air is
waged incessantly, by day and by night.
Gradually — so gradually as to be almost un~
noticeable — the naval pilots have begun to
co-operate with their brethren of the Army
wing. Formerly the functions of the two
Services were entirely dissimilar. Then
several squadrons of naval aircraft were
loaned to the Western front. So successful
was this combination that we find Haig re-
porting of the R.N.A.S. in the daily com-
munique that " the pilots have shown energy,
gallantry, and initiative, and have proved
themselves capable of hard work and hard
fighting. Further, the machines with which
they are provided have undoubtedly helped
largely towards the success of the aerial
fighting which has taken place this spring
on the front of the British Armies in
France/'

Of more recent date naval machines have
greatly co-operated with General Allenby's
Army on the shores of the Holy Land. From
the river Wady the unhappy Turk was hurried
on to Gaza, from there to Askalon, and he

48 TAILS UP

was badly mauled en route. A ton of bombs
was dropped from a low altitude by one big
squadron alone. Also numerous hits were
recorded on two large bodies of troops,
numbering about 5,000 of rank and file.

To this naval and military co-operation may
be added yet a greater international alliance.
America takes the air very seriously. Her
battle-cry is " Through the air to Berlin/'
Already she has allocated £128,000,000 for
the immediate construction of 20,000 aero-
planes and the training of 100,000 flying
men. With the typical touch of hustle,
two of the best engineers in the country
were locked together in the room of a
Washington hotel for five days, charged with
the development of an aeroplane motor for
use by American aviators over the battle-
fields of Europe. They produced the required
engine within twenty-eight days.

For over a year the American Lafayette
Squadron has been co-operating with the
French Flying Corps. The advanced de-
tachment of the American flyers are already
in the war area, picking out the lay of the land.

The splendid services of the French have
been adequately recounted in the columns

A CLEAR HORIZON 49

of the daily Press, and need but a passing
reference here. The giant Italian Caproni
has already won world- wide fame. Originally
a rather clumsy and awkward craft, the
Italians worked away at it so deliberately
during the winter that to-day the Austrians
have been driven from the air on every hand.

Stories of the work of these gallant airmen
occasionally drift through to this country.
The best of such was undoubtedly that of
the twenty-year-old Arturo delP Oro. Twice
in aerial combat his machine-gun failed him at
the critical moment . And he made a vow that,
should such a thing occur again, he would
not hesitate to ram his machine into the
enemy craft.

The following afternoon an Austrian
" Brandenburg " loomed up across the sky-
line. Up went the youthful airman to attack
him. Soaring to a great altitude, he opened
fire on his adversary from above. Then the
steady " pit-pit-pit " of his machine-gun
went off as suddenly as it had commenced.

His companions, who were party to his

vow, watched anxiously to see what he would

do. The Austrian was already making off for

his base, when, without hesitation, Arturo

4

50 TAILS UP

put the nose of his machine down at a terrific
speed, took the enemy amidships, and both
went hurtling to earth from over 10,000 feet.

While, queerest, and certainly most tragic,
of the last flights was that of another Italian
airman, Olivori. The first of his corps to
bring down five enemy machines, which feat
permitted him the proud title of " ace,"
Olivori had added seven to his bag before
flying home himself. Fatalistic to a degree
was the manner of his last farewell. Laughing
and joking with his friends, the conversation
suddenly turned upon the recent death of
the French champion, Guynemer. At the
mention of his name Olivori was observed
to go deathly white. He spoke not another
word, but walked to his waiting machine and
flew off, and had risen barely 200 feet
when his engine failed, crashing both pilot
and plane to earth.

In the enemy country, more than in any
other, aircraft construction is being carried
on at fever pitch. Every consideration is
being swept away before the deep-throated
call of the air-raiding Hun.

Motor-building factories and aeroplane
works are enlarging their plant and doubling

A CLEAR HORIZON 51

and trebling their personnel to cope with the
influx of orders. The Fokker firm, in par-
ticular, have taken over the great Barzina
piano factories in Schwerin.

The craft under construction are battle
planes, fighting planes (in large numbers),
triplanes (remarkable for speed and climbing
powers), and heavy three-seated bombers,
fitted with 260 h.p. Mercedes, with a climb
of 12,000 feet in thirty-five minutes, and
capable of carrying 1,700 Ib. and 1,800 lb.
of bombs.

A species of aerial tank is also under con-
struction. This craft will be built entirely
of metal, and is intended for work with the
infantry ; while a new type of Zeppelin,
embodying several new inventions, is being
constructed at Friedrichshaven.

Germany lies in the very centre of the air
war. France, Belgium, England, and Italy
can all attack her from every point of the
compass. To meet these deadly attacks the
enemy must spread her defensive forces over
a very wide area.

The most vital points in their lines of com-
munication— the Rhine bridges — will be at
our mercy. They number eighteen in all,

52 TAILS UP

with, in particular, the bridges of Cologne,
Bonn, Coblenz, and Freiburg . Such important
German military positions as Freiburg, Strass-
burg, Karlsruhe, Mannheim, Cologne, and
Essen all lie within easy riding of Nancy.

But whatever is done must be done with-
out delay. Aerial warfare moves with tre-
mendous speed. And such speed is only
possible when thought is combined with
action. The Allies must hold the mastery
of the air, for on it their future national
existence depends. And to hold the air we
must lay down three craft to every one that
Germany constructs.

FROM DAWN TO TWILIGHT

S3

CHAPTER III

FROM DAWN TO TWILIGHT

ONE can only realise the extent of the aerial
battle — and battlefield — by studying a large-
scale map of the entire battle-front, and the
use of the imagination. From south of St.
Quentin to the North Sea must be at least
one aerodrome to every three miles. Kite-
balloons dot the line-behind-the-line, three
to a mile. Double these estimates, and you
have the total number of aircraft of both bel-
ligerents working in the air at the same time.
The headquarters staffs of both British and
German armies are employing reconnaissance
and photographic craft for purposes of in-
formation ; likewise army corps and divi-
sional commanders. Kite-balloons and aero-
planes are directing artillery fire. And, for
their protection, fighting craft are skimming
the clouds, or carrying out semi-personal
" hates " and "strafes."

55

56 TAILS UP

There are no sign-posts or landmarks in the
air ; neither latitude nor longitude. But,
fortunately, some far-seeing map-designer has
marked off the contour map-surfaces into
alphabetical districts and numerical localities.
By this method alone can the geographical
positions of the " working " aircraft be
decided.

Scores of tiny shapes, thousands of feet up,
against the blue sky will be located as being
over Ai,B2.3, or C3,A6.7. At B4,A2.8
on this particular day an R.A.F. pilot dived
on to a German captive-balloon, through a
considerable a-a bombardment, and brought
it down in flames.

Five miles to the south, another pilot, who
had just bombed a railway with agreeable
result, was wounded in the arm, and fainted.
The dive of his machine brought him round.
Again he took control, but shortly afterwards
lost consciousness once more. Eventually,
despite the pain and the loss of blood, he
succeeded in making his own aerodrome
The pilot of the consort machine also was
hit. But in this case the observer took on,
managed to keep the machine level, and
flew it until his pilot recovered. Again

FROM DAWN TO TWILIGHT 57

the latter fainted. And again the observer
handled the control-stick, managing to land
the machinfe under very difficult circumstances
well within our lines.

At B3,A7.5, in the same locality, an
officer of the same squadron was effectively
demolishing an enemy railway -bridge. Four
thousand feet above a British photographer
was disturbed at his work by several enemy
craft . The fight was short and sweet . One of
the intruders went hurtling down to the earth.
This decided his companions, and they made
off. The photographer " carried on."

In another sector the enemy was making
a " push/' Our corps, hard pressed, was
urgently requiring information as to the
deployment of his reserves. Despite the out-
rageous weather conditions and the fact that
several previous attempts had been made
for the same reason without success, a pilot
essayed the flight from a local aerodrome.
This was his second attempt of the day.
Profiting from past experience, he flew over at
a height of only fifty feet through a murderous
rifle and machine-gun fire, and returned with
the desired information, still smiling.

I doubt if it is possible to describe ade-

58 TAILS UP

quately the terrors of these same " un-
favourable weather conditions " to the reader
who has never flown. Let him imagine
himself to be in the middle of an open heath,
without shelter of hill, tree, or house, and
overtaken by a violent thunderstorm. Let
him, again, imagine himself to be in that
same thunderstorm, 5,000 feet above, in a
frail aeroplane, buffeted on all sides by
howling winds, trounced with blinding rain
and knife-edged hail. In a single recent
thunderstorm three British pilots and their
machines were hurled to the ground — one of
them discovered the same evening, eight miles
to the south of his course, lying in a field,
with both wings shattered, and his engine
and fuselage an undistinguishable pulp. But
one man got away with it, despite storm and
wind and rain.

As the black clouds broke and the jagged
flashes of lightning streaked the sky, he was
diving down on to a company of enemy
infantry. Five miles he was from his own
base, with every prospect of being brought
down in the enemy's country. Even this
failed to daunt him.

Sightless with the driving rain, the Germans

FROM DAWN TO TWILIGHT 59

fired wildly in all directions. Like a flash
he was within fifty feet of them, spluttering
their harassed lines from the seething barrels
of his machine-guns. Again he dived, and
was hit by a shrapnel fragment. The storm
was still raging with bitterest intensity, but
he recovered himself. He returned to the
charge ; diving, climbing up into the storm,
and diving again. In all he got rid of be-
tween 500 and 600 rounds of bullets.
Providence must have set a special guard
upon his course that afternoon, for he got
home all right.

And here is another coup de main of a brother-
pilot hidden two miles away in the storm.
As the official Gazette described it, "In spite
of thunderstorms, and the use of smoke
screens by the enemy, he ranged a British
gun on a hostile battery position, obtaining
eight good hits, destroying two gun-pits and
causing a large explosion. He afterwards
ranged them on to another battery, destroy-
ing a gun-pit, obtained three direct hits on
a farm full of troops, and then silenced four
batteries/'

These are but incidents of the flying man's
working day. Between dawn and sunset they

60 TAILS UP

may be doubled, even trebled. Take, as an
instance, the record of Captain Trollope,
R.A.F. The day was March 24th, 1918, the
third of the great German push. His bag
included :

Morning — A German two-seater, shot to
pieces, in flames; a second two-
seater brought down, and a single-
seater downed in a spin and seen
to crash.

Afternoon — A German two-seater ex-
ploded in mid-air.

" Then/' as he said, in a letter to his
parents, " I saw two two-seaters very low
down ; I crashed both of them."

Vice-Commander and Captain John L.
Trollope is twenty. And now — though pre-
viously reported missing — he is wounded and
a prisoner in German hands. His story reads
like a romance. He has been through every
phase of the war. In June 1915 he was a
despatch rider, carrying messages from corps
to corps, by motor-cycle. In this way he
received his first wound. But, nowise
daunted, he transferred to the Naval Wing
of the R.A.F., and twelve months to the day

FROM DAWN TO TWILIGHT 61

was a fully qualified air-pilot. From that
time on he was fighting in the air, over the
battle-lines, until, in March 1917, he was
sent home to instruct pupils.

He was back again in France by March
1918. For in a letter home he describes to
his parents his experiences of a great fight
on March I3th. " I had a bullet through
both my tanks/' ran the letter, " and had to
glide for the lines. I turned upside-down on
landing, landing at some old trenches." His
postscript was characteristic. " But I came
out O.K."

Last seen — shortly after dawn onMarch28th
— he was fighting hard with enemy machines
on the eastern horizon.

Four German aeroplanes in ten hours is
the day's record of another British pilot,

Captain F . On another occasion, with

another pilot, they bagged seven Huns before
breakfast, three of them to F- -. Another
twenty-year-old youth, he has been in France
ten months, having brought down over fifty
Hun aeroplanes and five kite-balloons, the
squadron to which he is attached laying
claim to 300 Boche machines.

A squadron is subdivided into flights.

62 TAILS UP

Captain F- - led a flight of six pilots for
three months, without a casualty. That in
itself is a record for war-flying. Once, when
fighting a German two-seater, he had the
narrowest possible escape. The goggles were
shot away from his eyes. In the machine the
Verey lights caught fire, setting the wood-
work alight. Yet he managed to glide his
flaming craft back into his own lines.

And another similar, though somewhat
more hazardous adventure befell an observer,
some three miles east of the Salient. At
8,000 feet in hot fight, the petrol tanks
of a British plane were pierced by machine-
gun bullets from a German " Albatross/'
Despite the extreme danger, the observer got
to the tanks, and effected the necessary
repairs. Then he noticed that the starboard
engine was boiling violently.

At the urgent request of the pilot- — who
throttled down the engine and slowed speed
as much as possible — the observer climbed
out on to the lower plane of the wing,
clinging desperately with one hand, almost
hurled off with the force of the head- wind, and
effected extensive repairs to the water-circu-
lation system, thus enabling the engine to be

FROM DAWN TO TWILIGHT 63

opened up to the desired number of revolu-
tions. All this was carried out in a period
extending over 105 minutes, and entirely in
the open with a wind-force of ninety miles
per hour.

THE AIRMAN'S LOG

CHAPTER IV

THE AIRMAN'S LOG : SOME RECORDS OF THE
SKIES

THE log of the airman is hardly exciting in
its official form, but it is when little personal
notes come creeping in at the tag of some
stereotyped phrase that it grips and thrills.
Here is an instance : " Four machines sent
up managed to bag five Huns before break-
fast. "

Another youngster — since brought down
by enemy " Archies' ' — left on record that :
u I then went over the German trenches
filled with soldiers and was fired on by
machine-guns, rifles, and small field-guns, in
or out of range ! " He landed at the first
likely spot he saw — it must be explained that
he had been mortally wounded in the interval,
and was sinking from loss of blood — " My
machine was badly shot about."

There are logs in history — of the adven-
67

68 TAILS UP

turous old sea-captains, roaming the ocean
in search of the New World. In words of
blood they were written. Their pages were
filled with romance and tragedy, adventures
and courage, that no Kipling or Jules Verne
could imagine. There is an old brass-clamped
volume — long forgotten — thatlies in amuseum
in Madrid, containing the memoirs of Chris-
topher Columbus, the day before he and his
adventurous crew sighted that wonderful
new land of America.

" Pray God," it runs, " that, with to-
morrow's dawn may come deliverance. Al-
ready the men grow restive, and are threat-
ening to mutiny. For two days now they
have had no food. Unless we sight land
soon I fear they will rise and kill me. But,
does such land exist ? Is it only some wild
fancy of the learned men ? I am beginning
to fear so/' . . . Then the next day's entry :
" Land at last. . . . Yesterday the Pinta
picked up a piece of wood, rudely carved,
and the Nina a branch of thorn, with red
berries. I wept like a child when first that
barren shore showed up through the sea-mist.
When the call of the watch went up, ' Land
ahoy ! ' the sailors did but laugh at him.

THE AIRMAN'S LOG 69

But as he did persist, they crowded to his
side. Now, they are busy planning the con-
quest of this unknown shore ; and dreaming
of what they will do once we have landed.
For myself, my heart is bowed down with
the weight of my exceeding joy."

Of Scott slowly starving to death in the
great snow-bound waste of the Antarctic,
we remember that last message to the country
found in his log, written : " For my own sake
I do not regret this journey, which has shown
that Englishmen can endure hardship, help
one another, and meet death with as great a
fortitude as ever in the past. . . . We have
no cause for complaint, but bow to the will
of Providence, determined still to do our best
to the last " ; and his reference to " that
very gallant gentleman/' Captain Gates, who
walked out into the snow, so that he should no
longer be a burden to his starving companions.

There have been other very gallant gentle-
men who have flown off with the twilight,
never to return. What happened to them,
none can say. But sometimes their logs have
been found, filled in to the moment when
they must have been hit and their aeroplane
plunged headlong for the earth, Sometimes,

70 TAILS UP

on these tattered records will be found an
ugly brown smudge ; that tells its own story,
but too eloquently. A captain of the R.F.C.
wrent out one day early in the war, to make
a long flight over the enemy country. On the
way out he was hit by shrapnel, and his
thigh was shattered. This much he tells us
in his report : "I was wounded, but
determined to keep on, as the reconnaissance
was of the most vital importance. " The
report went on almost to the moment of
landing. Then his machine crumpled to
pieces ; and he was found dead. The report
—the log — apologised that he could not
finish it, as he was " so weak and faint from
loss of blood."

The modern log of the flying man differs
little from that of the master mariner. It
does not tell of seas and shores and hidden
rocks. Instead, there is something, if pos-
sible, more fascinating. It recounts wonder-
ful adventures : racing through the clouds,
diving down to the earth at hundreds of
miles an hour, plunging and rocking in a
sudden thunderstorm, battling for dear life
against the mighty winds of the skies.

It is the unvarnished narrative of what

THE AIRMAN'S LOG 71

Lloyd George referred to — on that historic
occasion in the House of Commons, when mov-
ing a vote of thanks to the Flying Services—
as where " the heavens are their battlefields.
They are the cavalry of the clouds. High
above the squalor and the mud, so high in
the firmament that they are not visible from
earth, they fight out the eternal issues of
right and wrong. Their struggles there by
day and night are like a Miltonic conflict be-
tween the winged hosts of light and darkness/'

A young naval pilot refers in his log to
one of these battles in the heaven^ :

" When at 11,000 feet I saw ten Gothas
coming inland. I climbed up to them and
engaged one on the right of the formation
about three miles out to sea at something
over 12,000 feet. Fired a hundred rounds
from straight behind his tail at a hundred
yards range; bullets were seen to enter the
Gotha's fuselage. The machine started into
a slow spin. I followed and fired about
twenty-five more into him to make sure. My
gun then jammed, and in trying to clear I
got into a very fast spin with my engines on.
Got out of this in time to see the enemy crash
into the sea,

72 TAILS UP

" I then landed, had my gun-jam cleared,
and I went up after the remaining eight
Gothas — one had been shot down in flames in
the interval — and caught up with them at
14,000 feet and engaged them in turn from
above and below. Then devoted all my
attention to one Gotha, and after firing
200 rounds into him, silenced both his guns.
I think both the German gunners must have
been hit, as I was able to get within sixty
feet of him without being fired at. I finally
ran him out of ammunition."

The following extract is of a very different
nature. It is from the log of Paul Pavelaka,
a young American with one of the most
romantic stories of the war. Previously he
was a gipsy, tramping the United States.
He was twenty-six when he died. He beat
his way round the globe and halfway back
again, whereupon he ran into the war. He
got a wound fighting Huns with the Foreign
Legion, and the Croix de Guerre fighting
Huns in the sky with the American Escadrille.
On this occasion he missed being burnt to
death in a flaming aeroplane by what was
almost a miracle. Here is his story :

" I was at about 10,000 feet when I first

THE AIRMAN'S LOG 73

became conscious of a slight smell of burning.
When I looked towards the petrol-tank, I
discovered a tiny flame licking round the
base. From then on it was a nightmare.
All that I was conscious of was a sudden
rush of smoke and flame. Hurriedly I put
her down towards the earth. And, as I did
so, the flame beat almost into my face. It
seemed like an eternity before I got down.
And I only accomplished that with a smashed
wing and a broken propeller. I was pretty
well dazed for hours afterwards."

There has always been considerable un-
certainty as to the manner in which that
" ace " of British airmen, Captain Ball, V.C.,
met his death. It has now been described
in the record of the celebrated Captain von
Richthofen, who is credited by the Germans
with having brought down sixty-four Allied
aeroplanes.

" It was my brother/' this doughty airman
wrote in his log, " to whom this signal honour
fell. The famous Captain Ball — by far the
best English flying man — was his twenty-
second adversary. The equally well-known
Major Hawker I had already taken to my
bosom some months earlier. It gave me

74 TAILS UP

special joy that it should be my brother's
luck to down the second of England's
champions.

" Captain Ball was flying a triplane, and
encountered my brother alone at the front.
Each one tried to grip the other, and neither
exposed his vulnerable part. It proved a
brief encounter. Neither of the two suc-
ceeded in getting behind the other.

" Suddenly within the brief moment of
mutual frontal attack both managed to fire
some well-aimed shots. Both flew at one
another ; both fired. Each had a motor
before him, and the chances of a hit were
very slender, the speed being double as great
as the normal. There was really little prob-
ability of either hitting the other.

" My brother, who was somewhat lower,
had banked his machine too much, and he
lost his balance. For a few moments his
machine was beyond control. Very soon,
however, he regained command, but found
that his opponent had shot both his petrol
tanks to pieces. To land was, therefore, the
only resource.

" Quickly ! Out with the plug or the body
will burn ! The next thought was ; ' What

THE AIRMAN'S LOG 75

has become of my opponent ? ' At the
moment of canting he had observed how the
enemy also had swerved aside. He could,
therefore, not be very far from him. The
question arose : ' Is he over or under me ? '
He was below. My brother saw the triplane
swerving again and falling ever more deeply :
Captain Ball fell and fell until he reached the
ground. He was in our territory.

" Both adversaries had in the brief moment
of their encounter hit each other with their
powerful machine guns, and Captain Ball had
received a shot in the head.

:t He had on him some photographs and
newspaper cuttings from his home country in
which he was greatly praised. He appeared
shortly before to have been home on leave.

" During Boelke's time Captain Ball had
destroyed thirty-six German machines. Now
he, too, had met his master — or was it a co-
incidence that a great one such as he should
also die the usual hero's death ?

" Captain Ball was without doubt the
leader of the anti-Richthofen squadron, and I
believe that now the Englishmen will prefer
to abstain from trying to catch me. I am
sorry for this, because thereby we are robbed

76 TAILS UP

of many a fine opportunity for giving the
English a jolly drubbing.

" Had not my brother been wounded, I
believe he would, on my return from leave
also have been granted his leave with fifty-
two Englishmen to his credit/'

A somewhat similar vainglorious recital is
to be found in the private diary of a member
of the crew of one of the Zeppelins which
raided England in 1915. It commences with
the receipt of a telegraphic order from Berlin :
" Weather favourable ; attack London
to-night, " and continues : " Punctual to the
minute L 33 leaves its hi ding -place, the motors
begin to hum, the ship rises majestically
and we are off — against England. . . . "
The day was ending when the steersman re-
ported : " Twenty-six miles from the coast/'
Then, " Land in sight. We recognised Yar-
mouth, and then the ships separated to avoid
collisions in the darkness/' A couple of
minutes later the wireless operator brought
the information that the English had sparked,
" Zeppelins over the Wash ! "

"At 12.15 we were over the Thames to
the west of London. Then, ' Full speed
ahead/ Suddenly a number of search-

THE AIRMAN'S LOG 77

lights began to work ahead of us. Shrapnel
and shells burst all around the ship — the 1,33 —
but it came safely through, and we saw her
bombs dropping on the city, and fires breaking
out at various points.

u Meanwhile we had reached the suburbs.
' Klas zum War fen ' and then ' A bwerfer ! ' are
the commands, but in the same moment a
searchlight catches us. The first bomb falls
and others follow at short intervals. In spite
of the hum of the propellers and the noise of
the motors, we can hear the bombs exploding,
and the shrapnel in our neighbourhood.

"At 1.15 we crossed the coast-line, and at
2.30 this message was sparked : ' Place
North Hinder Lightship . London attacked. ' ' '

The airman's log embraces earth and sky,
cloud and trench and sea alike. In that
breezy vernacular of the air, it whispers
apologetically of "stunts" and "buses/1
:' bumps " and " planes " ; it pictures badly
winged craft battling for life against the hori-
zon of the skyline ; and also of long, dreary
watches over the grey wastes of the seas.

The romance and daring of these flights
find full flavour in a few — often ill-spelt —
words. The phrasing lacks nothing of the

78 TAILS UP

picturesque. Refreshingly original is the
wording, and the matter smacks of clear
heavens and sparkling skies.

In the log — irreverently termed " game-
book " — one comes across such phrases as :
" Number Three was troubled by a search-
light and dived for it. Sliding down the
beam, he smashed it up effectively."

Then the stern eye of authority commenced
to frown on such levity. Orders were issued
that the words " plane " and " bus " were no
longer to be employed in official reports when
referring to an aeroplane. " Laying the
eggs," " getting pipped/' and " doing a
stunt " were less desirable expressions than
dropping the bombs, being wounded, or
making a flight.

For the guidance of future offenders a
schedule was drawn up. Worded in choice
official phraseology, the average report now
reads somewhat after the following manner :
"7.20 a.m., 8,000 feet, B,A2.7 over the
trenches ; considerable activity in the enemy
reserved trenches. Two pill-boxes observed,
B,As.9, also a tank trap, covered by planks,
tree branches, and gravel. 7.30, 9,000, train,
locomotive and five coaches, proceeding

THE AIRMAN'S LOG 79

westerly direction between S— - and M— — , ' '
and so forth. All of which the Flying Ser-
vices " chewed over " round their mess-tables
and around bleak aerodromes. Until, finally,
if not turning a blind eye thereon, at least
winked at barefacedly.

And, somehow, that personal note would
come creeping into their reports. The breezy
nonchalance, the genuine joy of the pro-
fession, would not be denied. Thus we find
one hardy adventurer :

" I came down to 2,500 feet, and continued
my descent at a rate of well over 100 miles
an hour. At about 1,000 feet I loosed my
bombs all over the place. The whole way
down I was under fire — two anti-aircraft in
the yard, guns from the fort on either side,
rifle fire, machine guns, and, most weird of
all, great bunches of what looked like green
rockets, but I think they were flaming
bullets. My chief impression was the great
speed, the flaming bullets streaking by, the
incessant rattle of the machine-gun and rifle
fire, and one or two shells bursting close by,
knocking my machine all sideways and pretty
nearly deafening me. . . . My eyes must
have been sticking out of my head like a

8o TAILS UP

shrimp. I banked first on one wing-tip and
then on the other, now slipping outwards,
and now up and down. I covered, I suppose,
getting on for 250 miles. Have not yet
heard what damage was done. The C.O.
was awfully braced ! "

Perhaps pardonable under the circum-
stances.

" I was using the bow gun and was leaning
over when he came out right under me. . .
I shot him, and the machine went into a
nose-dive. "

Thus a United States naval airman has it
written in his private record concerning a
fight in the North Sea, with five Hun machines,
in which he participated.

" Three of us/' he wrote, " were on patrol
in the morning, and just beyond the North
Hinder five Huns drove on our tails. We
fought for forty-five minutes, and in the
middle of it a submarine bobbed up right
under me. We had all dropped our bombs
at the start of the fight, so that all I could
do was to give him a few shots which drove the
hatch closed and the boat to duck.

" Well, it was a running fight. The chief
picked two crews that he felt confidence in, and

THE AIRMAN'S LOG 81

I was picked. We had orders to keep our
bombs, to run from nothing, no matter what
the odds were against us, and to show the
Hun that we could fight. Nice start for a
party. So out we went and ran on to five
Huns sitting in the water near their coast.
They jumped up and we went for them.

" We started with a stern action and we
were landing too hot for them. They fell
into a circle as quick as you could wink and
circled below us. We simply riddled them
and they did the same for us. One tried to
cross our bow to ram us, but misjudged, and
as we held on he had to go below us.

" I was using the bow gun and was leaning
over when he came out right under me, with
the gunner who sat aft looking at me and
pointing his gun in my face. I shot him,
and the machine went up on its ear and into a
nose-dive. It levelled out just at the water
and withdrew. I don't know how much dam-
age was done. We had no time to look.

" Then my pilot rushed the remains of the
circle and broke it up. They ran away in
column ahead, but again this put us at an
advantage, so they formed a higher and larger
circle and really started to ' lay us cold.'
6

82 TAILS UP

" My wireless man, who was using a rear
gun, was shot through the neck, and my gun
had got so hot by then that the sights had
rolled off, and I took what ammunition I had
left and crawled back over the lower plane.

" They saw me crawling in and made it
quite hot. Luckily for me, I slipped on his
blood and missed a very good burst that was
meant for my head. Then I used his gun
until we ' had put it over them/ and our
ammunition ran low.

" We used 2,500 rounds between the two
machines. Most of the action was at 200 feet.

" It was a regular bull-dog fight and very
dirty work. We made them change their
minds, I think. It was the best fight we ever
put up from this station, and the first pilots
of the machines simply ' stuck them in to
it.' The air was literally full of lead and
traces of smoke.

" But don't run away with the idea that
the Hun won't fight. He had no idea of
letting us get away with it that I could see."

In other instances the log would assume
more impersonal a note. Squadron and Wing
Commanders would report of Flight-Sub-
Lieut. X. or Captain Y. that :

THE AIRMAN'S LOG 83

" He ambushed three aeroplanes from a
cloud, dived at them, and then, suspecting
a trick, zoomed up to find three fighting
planes diving at him from higher clouds.
Though below them, he accepted the challenge,
and at once doubled up the first one he met ."

u He attacked a formation of fifteen hostile
machines returning from a raid on England.
Closing on one machine, he engaged it at
close quarters and sent it in a nose-dive into
the sea."

And of another pilot, unknown, that :

" After a long chase he engaged and
brought down one of the enemy raiders re-
turning from England. He engaged a second,
but his gun jammed, and though he continued
the pursuit to the enemy coast, he could not
clear his gun."

While, at sea, the R.N.A.S. has on record
that :

" They fight when they must, and the
straightest shot wins. If hit, unless hope-
lessly out of control, they take to the water
like a wounded duck. If the damage is
beyond temporary repair, they sit on the
surface and pray for the dawn and a tow
from a friendly destroyer."

84 TAILS UP

Here, on the other hand, is the version of
a German airman participating in one of
these raids on Great Britain. He is Watch
Officer Senior Lieutenant of the Naval Reserve
Grener. As they approach the British coast
in the twilight, he records in his log :

" The English coast must come into sight
any moment. Sure enough, there it is in
sharp outline. Soon we shall be near enough
to recognise where we are. . . . Slowly, quite
slowly, we approach it. Once in a while a
cloud intervenes. But as yet all is quiet
and peaceful. Now the coast lies perpen-
dicularly beneath us. Now, now at last we
near the goal of our desires.

" The English are waiting for us !

" We don't intend to be kept out. To-
night we have time. The night is longer
than in June. So on we go. Now and then a
searchlight picks us up. Now and then a
shot flares at us. ... But, notwithstanding,
there it is — quite plainly — our goal — London.
Thou city of my dreams — the cause of my
sleepless nights ! . . . A brilliant wreath of
searchlights betokens the prize from afar.

" The captain consults his map and com-
pass, and then commands, ' Cross London

THE AIRMAN'S LOG 85

from north to south and then veer to the
east.' . . . Beneath us we can see and hear
that our presence is detected. We discern
masked lights. Others burst forth and go
out. They are the muzzle- flashes of the
anti-aircraft guns. Searchlights stab the sky,
first slowly, carefully, anxiously, then wildly,
from this, then from that side. Sometimes
they locate nothing but a drifting cloud.
But now they have found us. Even oftener
and more accurately the ghostly white stabs
of light are directed straight at our craft and
envelop us. Suddenly it gleams bright as
day.

" Now shrapnel is bursting fiercely all
around us. Shells are tearing at us like birds
of prey with flaming eyes. Fore and aft,
below us, above us, everywhere, they scream
and roar. It is hellish, yet beautiful. And
loud above the crash of the thundering shells
we hear the deep bass of our faithful bombs
— bum — bum — bum — and always the
orchestral accompaniment to the concert
supplied by our whirring propellers.

" But we are doing things in London, too.
There, on our starboard, is a mighty cave-in ;
and there, to port, another. In their prox-

86 TAILS UP

imity, where a fourth bomb has dropped,
there is a whole series of explosions. Heavens,
but we're letting them have it this time !
There is comrade von L— - at work. He
has peppered London before. Only to-night
he is less excited.

" But things are getting too hot for us.
Away from this inhospitable neighbourhood.
A caressing west wind is at our back, and
amid protecting clouds we start on our return
journey to the coast. Here another, still
heavier but futile bombardment awaits us.
We've been so busy that nobody had time
to remember that our visit to England to-
night has been in freezing cold. Our artificial
breathing apparatus is almost glued to our
lips by the Arctic frost. But it's warmer now.
Gradually our nerves and lungs resume their
normal functions. Home coasts beckon to
us, and before we know it we're safe again and
landing on friendly soil."

There are many sides of the airman's work
which have been recounted in this short
chapter, but few of the possibilities. The
"log " of the air -pilot goes to make a breath-
less, fascinating chapter of war, an epic of
history.

A PAGE OF HISTORY

CHAPTER V

A PAGE OF HISTORY

THE finest of all war-reading is to be discovered
in the award pages of The London Gazette.

It is the more interesting because it is
scrupulously correct in every detail. There
is a plain-told narrative, without attempt
at fiction or exaggeration. Deed follows
deed, in short, terse sentences, with a variety
that is at once fascinating and bewildering.
Here is a single page from a single list of
awards : Military Crosses, Distinguished Ser-
vice Orders, bars to D.S.O., and D.S.C.s.
Almost intentionally, the reports of the
various Wing-Commanders of the R.A.F. must
have been culled each of their finest stories,
and strung together in a dazzling line. But,
judge for yourselves.

The first deed — it comes under the list of
D.S.O.s — is the story of an homeric combat,
in the mist, between a British fighter and a
German Albatross.

90 TAILS UP

Apparently for some time these two had
been hunting round, and out of sight of one
another. Then the mist lifted, and they
passed within eighty yards. The enemy was
first in with his shot, and getting our pilot
through the heart, killed him instantly. The
former closed in to administer the coup de
grace ; but he had counted without the
British observer. The machine was already
going down, with the Albatross hard behind
it, when the observer managed to crawl
across his companion's dead body to the
control-stick.

Though wounded in the hand, he drove
the enemy plane off with his gun, and got
his own machine under control. Thus he
continued over the lines, and crashed within
a mile of his own aerodrome. Even then,
dazed and wounded as he was, he insisted
on being taken on to his corps headquarters
to report. " He showed great coolness and
skill/' is the laconic comment.

This, again, in the concluding remark of
the next award. However, we have here
the history of a few startling weeks, told in
as few lines. " For courage and initiation."
This particular pilot displayed even more

A PAGE OF HISTORY 91

than these two sterling qualities. Rather
let it be said that he possessed determination
and staying power to an unusual degree.
By day and by night, in fine weather and in
storm, he kept at it incessantly. He led
offensive patrols, which " under his able and
determined leadership consistently engaged
enemy aircraft " ; set fire to and destroyed
enemy kite-balloons, and constantly brought
down German planes out of control. On
one occasion he attacked a new type enemy
two-seater machine. Immediately the Hun
dived steeply to the east. Our man, fol-
lowing hard on his tail, closed on it, firing
a long burst at close range. As the report
says, " the enemy went down vertically out
of control." But perhaps his finest " stunt "
was when " he attacked an enemy kite-
balloon at night, and destroyed both the
balloon and its shed by fire."

Then, almost before one can get one's
breath, there follow the adventures of an
airman who possessed the unique faculty of
" never failing to locate enemy aircraft."
And having nosed them out, he always
attacked without any regard to the numbers
against him. In nine short weeks he was

92 TAILS UP

successful in bringing down nine enemy air-
craft— an average of one machine per week.
This, let it be said, at nineteen years of age :
" a magnificent fighter/'

It is an uncertain life ; but that is its great-
est charm. At a height of over 18,000 feet
one pilot attacked and destroyed an enemy
two-seater reconnaissance machine. In the
trenches there happen adventures, many and
varied ; but one can be certain of them — to
a degree. Nothing is certain in the guerilla
warfare of the clouds. It is single combat
all the time — man to man, gun to gun ; and
the better man gets away with it. There
are no reserves to be rushed up to his support,
no unfair preponderance of heavy artillery.

This same pilot, on another occasion,
attacked single-handed six enemy triplanes,
bringing one down and driving off the re-
mainder. Another carried out some very
useful and long flights in flying machines
of an old type in East Africa. He completed
his reconnaissances even when the machine
had been practically uncontrollable through
the " bumps. " "He has been eager and
ready to go up at all times, and has shown
no thought of personal danger."

A PAGE OF HISTORY 93

And yet another, ' when attacked on
artillery patrol by eight enemy aircraft, suc-
ceeded in driving down one machine, the rest
being driven off east/'

Halfway down the page we come across
the story of a fight, close-in, at seventy-five
yards' machine-gun range. The Britisher
opened the engagement, nose on, firing
rapidly. They turned and climbed and dived
awhile, each man fighting for the "upper
berth/' For, once there, the uppermost pilot
has his opponent in his " blind spot," and
at his mercy. Opportunity came at last ;
there followed a murderous burst ; the
German turned over on its side and com-
menced to spin. He was followed, and
engaged at thirty yards' range. It was the
end of that perfect day. With a last uncon-
trollable lunge, the Hun dived down into the
interminable space below.

One would have thought that sufficient
sensation for the day. But late in the after-
noon, and again on patrol, this same British
pilot took on no less than fourteen Albatross
at one time. He followed one of them to
8,000 feet, firing all the time. " This is," the
official Gazette says, " confirmed by other

94 TAILS UP

pilots of the patrol to have fallen completely
out of control."

So the terse accounts run on, each new one
putting the last out of countenance. For a
second bar to his Distinguished Service Cross,
an R.A.F. youngster put in an unusually
hustling day. In aerial combat, alone, in
the grey hours of the early dawn, he ran up
against a new type twin-tailed two-seater
enemy machine, firing a good many rounds
at point-blank range. The enemy machine
dived ; but again he attacked, until,
eventually, the Boche went down vertically
with his engine full on. The wings came off,
and the machine was observed to crash.

Later in the same day he observed two
formations of ten and five Albatross scouts
respectively. He attacked one of the enemy
machines and sent it down in a flat spin, and
falling over sideways, completely out of
control. And, almost as an afterthought, he
led out an offensive patrol, towards sunset,
adding yet another Hun to his personal bag.

To a highly suitable climax, the story of
Temporary Second Lieutenant P— - :

" Whilst on artillery patrol his machine
was attacked by a hostile scout. Although

A PAGE OF HISTORY 95

he was wounded by the first burst of hostile
fire, he continued to work his gun, and suc-
ceeded in driving off the enemy machine,
which is believed to have been severely
damaged. When taken to the C.C.S. he
insisted on being sent to his squadron, in
order to make a reconnaissance report on
movement behind the enemy's lines. After
doing this he was taken back to the C.C.S.,
where he was operated on and the bullet
extracted. This officer has proved himself a
most reliable observer. He has done con-
sistent good work, and many of his reports
have been of the greatest value. "

THE DAWN PATROL

97

CHAPTER VI

THE DAWN PATROL

THE reconnaissance " bus " lay, herded with
her kind, in a corner of the bleak aerodrome,
within a circle of crude flares, and against
the adventure pregnant blackness of the
early morning. The forlorn array of cans
that lay scalped around her ; the fresh odour
of oil and spirit — a combination flavour
peculiar to aircraft ; the tense hum of many
voices ; the muffled figure of the pilot, hard
by ; the sudden booming of the mighty
engine heralded a speedy departure.

With her squat, blunt nose and broad
wing-spread she stood, a craft apart from the
slimmer, more graceful fighting scouts. A
double-engine battleplane, her triple fuse-
lages interposed by a serviceable, albeit
sinister-looking gun-pit, towered over her, in
the background, almost with an air of con-
descension. A toy, in proportion, a Bristol
bullet squatted alongside, and a little in rear

09

ioo TAILS UP

of her. The reconnaissance bus was the
last in line of six similar craft, squatted across
the landing-ground, barely distinguishable
in the half-lights, their present muteness
proclaiming a separate mission.

The pilot clambered aboard — one foot on
the wing, and over the side of the fuselage, into
his seat. His observer was already crouched
in the forward pit ; his head visible only, and
that successfully camouflaged by a pair of un-
sightly goggles. To a sudden motion of the
pilot's hand the blocks were jerked out from
the wheels, and the machine lunged forward.

Circling gracefully overhead, she could be
seen dipping spasmodically to the rarefied
patches of air that the growing light had
churned up out of the mist-laden depths of
the previous night. Then she turned her
nose due east, and commenced to climb gradu-
ally. And gradually, as she merged into the
low-lying clouds, the silhouette of her outline
grew less and less distinct. To the pilot, the
aerodrome became a mere black smudge
against the grey background of the surface.

As he gained altitude, the dawn-light
widened ; rolling back, like a coverlet, the
landscape of the earth beneath, as far as

THE DAWN PATROL 101

eye could reach, to ther north, to tne 'sand-
fringed sweep of blue waters.

The slumbering armies of land and sea woke
to animation. Bare reaches of the ribbon-like
roadways darkened, here and there, with
painfully crawling masses. With a quick puff
of white smoke, a great gun spoke somewhere
far below. Against the distant skyline the
low hull of a destroyer loomed into view.

Presently they swept across the lines, to
the accompaniment of a desultory anti-
aircraft bombardment . As the minute, flame-
grey patches commenced to flick the sky in
unhealthy proximity, the pilot ''stuffed her
nose down," and she streaked out of range.
This method having proved effective, he then
determined to regain his height — a highly
judicious factor in the unequal combat be-
twixt gun and plane. The rush of upward
air died away perceptibly. The angle of
transit veered from fifteen below to fifteen
above the horizontal. The decrease in speed
waxed significant. Then he found time to
make his map-readings. Two highways
flung outwards, like the arms of a tuning-
fork. In the far distance a turning, twisting
roadway completed a wide triangle. Immedi-

102 TAILS UP

ately^below', another roadway ran left and right
at a sharp right angle. A group of small houses
straggled along either side to the distance of
some half a mile. In rear of the village a gleam-
ing railroad track curved into view . Too far to
the north ! He changed his course accordingly.
Before him he caught a glimpse of his
observer, head bent well forward, pencil in
hand, busy over his report sheet. It was
too early yet for any considerable activity
with road and canal traffic. Behind Lange-
marck, their sloping wooden roofs painfully
conspicuous, nestled a township of , huts.
Down the railway, from the north-east,
steamed a train — like a worm wriggling
across the mud. The observer noted the
direction, counted the number of trucks,
spied further for rolling stock on sidings, and
then made a note on his pad : " 5.30 a.m.,
10,000 feet, £9, AS. 3, troop train proceeding
westerly direction : one locomotive and
twelve coaches/ ' Then his roaming eye caught
and held the landmarks of their objective.
Somewhere between Roulers and Oostnieuw-
kerke, south of the connecting high-road
and hidden in a little wood, lay the emplace-
ment he was ordered to locate. He startled

THE DAWN PATROL 103

his pilot from his reverie with a loud " Hul-
loa ! ' ' on the speaking-tube. ' ' What's the mat-
ter ? " came the quick response. ' Will you
go lower/' the observer demanded curtly. Obe-
dience was to perform the easiest known feat in
aviation circles. The dial hand on the face
of the altimeter veered rapidly downward.

As the earthward rush developed, the
surface grew more distinguishable. Roads
and railways, rivers and canals, towns and
villages jumbled together in uncanny pro-
fusion. Now the long-sought wood was easily
visible. For a moment or so they circled it
at a low altitude, the observer, with his
glasses gripped to his eyes, leaning far across
the side. Then the speaking-tube broke the
tension again. " Home, Jeames," was its brief
comment, as an anti-aircraft battery opened
rapid fire from somewhere behind the town.

And at that moment — in flying parlance —
they " ran right into it." The shock of the
burst took the frail aeroplane with a strange,
almost human quivering. The smoke and
the stench beat into their faces, filling their
eyes and lungs, almost choking them. Un-
consciously they were aware of the un-
pleasant rip-rip of shrapnel bullets piercing

104 TAILS UP

the taut fabric of the wings. Dark, gleaming
lights flashed suddenly before their eyes.
The machine commenced to perform the
queerest and most absurd antics. Round
they swept in a breathless semi-circle, diving
from that into a dark, abysmal space. The
rush of upward air roared into their ears,
filling the head with a strange drumming.
Earth and sky alike were intermingled in a
swiftly moving kaleidoscope.

At 2,000 feet, by superb airmanship, the
pilot " got her out " and on a level keel
again. With his engine at top speed, he made
off in the direction of the lines.

The ensuing twenty minutes, preliminary
to regaining their height, was an unnerving
and an anxious period. But gradually the
machine commenced to climb, and by the
time the lines were reached the machine
skirted over at a respectful height. They
were taking no unnecessary risks.

The subsequent report, perused by the
Wing Commander, contained, beyond the
customary routine observations, no further
reference to the adventure than : " Over
X we encountered an intensive anti-
aircraft bombardment/'

SOME V.C.S OF THE AIR

105

CHAPTER VII

SOME V.C.S OF THE AIR

WHEN, in 1856, Queen Victoria founded the
crimson ribbon of chivalry, with attached
the tiny Maltese cross of metal made from
Russian cannon taken at Sebastopol, and
bearing the prized inscription, " For Valour/'
it was thought adequate to meet any possible
deed of human pluck and endurance. But
that was before the days of the Flying Ser-
vice. Though they would be the last to
admit it. They hate advertisement !

" Every airman should have a V.C.," re-
marked, the other day, a gushing member of
the fairer sex. Another woman demanded
of that good fellow and splendid airman
Guynemer, " Now that you have won every
possible decoration, including those foreign
' crosses/ what other cross can you win ? "
" The wooden cross, madam/' was his
prompt and courteous reply. Try it on any

107

io8 TAILS UP

airman of your acquaintance. His reply
would be somewhat similar, but hardly polite.
To a degree this outspoken — and most
genuine — admiration is permissible. Really,
these youthful heroes of the skies have be-
wildered and dazzled the prosaic old world
that works and fights beneath their speeding
feet, beyond understanding. The "nut" —
pre-war despised — the sportsman, the gunner,
the ne'er-do-well, the soldier are numbered
in their ranks. Their courage has made our
hearts leap . Their daring and gallantry have
made the horrors of bloody war almost worth
the while. They have put history to shame,
and dwarfed the Odyssey of Homer to in-
significance. Though perhaps the latter sup-
plied the words lacking to the Paean, when
he wrote :

"... sails

The aerial space, and mounts the winged gales :
O'er earth and ocean wide prepared to soar,
The dreaded arm a beamy javelin bore,
Ponderous and vast : which, when her fury burns,
Proud tyrants humbles, and whole hosts o'erturns."

Here are a few phrases, chosen at random,
from the tales which follow on. They speak
for themselves ! "On returning with a

SOME V.C.S OF THE AIR 109

damaged machine he had always to be re-
strained from immediately going out on
another/' " Five others then attacked him
at long range, but these he dispersed on
coming to close quart ers," and " On starting
the return journey he was mortally wounded,
but succeeded in flying for thirty-five minutes
to his destination, and reported the success-
ful accomplishment of his object/' Again:
" Though suffering extreme torture from
burns, he showed the most conspicuous
presence of mind in the careful selection of a
landing-place." And, yet again : " He des-
cended at a safe distance from the burning
machine, took up Sub-Lieutenant Smylie, in
spite of the near approach of a party of the
enemy, and returned to the aerodrome — a feat
of airmanship that can seldom have been
equalled for skill and gallantry."

First of them all must be related the in-
cidents of the two latest flying V.C.s, and
incidentally the first to be awarded to the
newly-formed Royal Air Force. The story
of Lieutenant Alan McLeod, described as
" an indomitable fighter," is unparalleled in
the history of the air. Though five times
wounded, he beat off the attack of eight

no TAILS UP

German triplanes. His machine was in
flames, but he succeeded in piloting it back,
almost to the British lines. His observer had
been wounded in the fight, and was unable
to extricate himself from the burning wreck-
age. McLeod immediately came to his aid,
and only when he was certain that his
companion was in comparative safety did
he give thought to his own wounds. Then he
fainted off from exhaustion and loss of blood.

Flying at a height of 5,000 feet, attacking
hostile formations with bombs and machine
gun, these eight enemy craft had dived at
them from all directions. The situation
seemed hopeless. Eight enemy guns ranged
on the British machine — overhead, beneath
the tail, and on either side. An ordinary
pilot would have gone down. But McLeod
was no ordinary pilot. Manoeuvring rapidly
and with great skill, he turned his plane
first in one direction, then in another. Thus
the observer was enabled to fire rapid " bursts "
at each enemy machine in turn, bringing down
three of them out of control.

Meanwhile, McLeod had sustained no fewer
than five wounds — the observer, six. A
German bullet had penetrated the petrol tank

SOME V.C.S OF THE AIR in

of his machine, setting it on fire. Yet,
despite his condition, and despite the desperate
position they were in, he unstrapped his
belt and climbed out on to the bottom plane
of the left wing. There he controlled his
machine from alongside the body, and,
banking her over at a sharp angle, he kept
the flames to one side. Thus manoeuvring,
he enabled the observer to continue his gun-
fire until, eventually, they crashed to earth
in "No Man's Land/'

There the fire broke out with renewed
intensity. The observer was still in the
flaming machine. But McLeod fought his
way through smoke and flame, and dragged
him from the burning wreckage. All the
time he was under heavy machine-gun fire
from the enemy lines, and in constant danger
from the explosion of his own bombs. In
fact, one of these did go off and wounded him
for the sixth time.

A single-handed battle with an enemy
aerodrome and nineteen German aeroplanes,
from a height of only fifty feet above ground,
was the adventure that gained for Lieutenant
Alan Jerrard, R.A.F., the second Cross.
According to the Gazette :

ii2 TAILS UP

" When on an offensive patrol with two
other officers he attacked five enemy aero-
planes, and shot one down in flames, following
it down to within 100 feet of the ground,
and, engaging single-handed some nineteen
machines, which were either landing or at-
tempting to take off, succeeded in destroying
one of them, which crashed on the aero-
drome. A large number of machines then
attacked him, and whilst thus fully occupied
he observed that one of the pilots of his
patrol was in difficulties. He immediately
went to his assistance, regardless of his own
personal safety, and destroyed a third enemy
machine.

" Fresh enemy machines continued to rise
from the aerodrome, which he attacked one
after another, and only retreated, still engaged
with five enemy machines, when ordered to
do so by his patrol leader. Although ap-
parently wounded this very gallant officer
turned repeatedly and attacked single-
handed the pursuing machines, until he was
eventually overwhelmed by numbers and
driven to the ground. "

Somewhat different was the manner in
which Major Bishop, D.S.O. — the British

SOME V.C.S OF THE AIR 113

Immelmann, as our friend the Hun describes
him — was awarded the coveted Cross. It
was more for a single brilliant action than
work over a continued period, although
the latter included the destruction of forty
enemy aeroplanes, and several kite-balloons,
and the deed that won him the D.S.O. :
" While in a single-seater he attacked
three hostile aeroplanes, two of which he
brought down, although in the meantime he
was himself attacked by four other hostile
machines/'

Bishop is the son of the registrar of a
small town in Ontario, Canada. Only nine-
teen years of age, in his first fifty-seven air-
fights he brought down twenty-one German
aeroplanes and two balloons. His appear-
ance gives every indication of the great
physical courage and determination neces-
sary to a pilot with such a record. He is
well built, with open, resolute face, clean-
shaven, and a quiet, almost subdued manner.

The particular exploit for which he was
awarded the V.C. was described by Mr.
Roland Hill as follows :

:( Once he swooped down from above the
clouds, to find, twelve miles behind the line,
8

ii4 TAILS UP

a brand-new aerodrome, with eight nice, new
Albatross machines on a nicely plotted lawn.
" His sudden appearance upset the Ger-
mans' luncheon, so he politely spiralled up
behind the airsheds, and when the first
machine started up, swooped down on its
tail at about fifty feet, through a spray of
machine-gun bullets, and sent it crashing
down completely wrecked, its pilot killed.
Turning again, he swept the second Albatross,
as it was just starting up, and saw it catch
fire. Climbing up to about 1,000 feet, every
kind of gun popping away at him, he found
the third machine getting under way, and
swiftly raced after it. One little scrap in
the air, and he caught it with the full blast
of his machine gun and sent it side-slipping
into a clump of trees. The fourth machine,
by this time, was climbing to get the advant-
age of height, so he followed suit, and a
three or four minutes' chase in the air re-
sulted. The German turned to give battle
when the fifth machine was also well under
way, and they seemed to have our man sand-
wiched. But the British airman kept at
Number Four until he had the satisfaction
of seeing him flutter down completely out

'SOME V.C.S OF THE AIR 115

of control. He was just in a favourable
position to grab the fifth Albatross when
his ammunition gave out, so he waved a
farewell with the empty drum and started
for home/'

Shortly after the award of his Cross, he
returned to Canada for a few months' spell
as an instructor in a large training-school.
During this period he was married to Miss
Margaret Eaton Burden, daughter of Mr.
C. E. Burden, and niece of Sir John Eaton.
After which he returned to France, to com-
mand a squadron. Additional to the former
decorations he has also been awarded the
Military Cross, received the personal con-
gratulations of Sir Douglas Haig, and his
father has been congratulated by Sir Robert
Borden, the Canadian Premier.

Bishop's was the thirteenth bronze cross
awarded to the Flying Services. Among
other decorations they had already annexed,
by the end of 1916, no less than 7 V.C.s,
72 D.S.O.s, 304 M.C.s, 97 M.M.s, 54 D.C.M.s,
53 Meritorious Service Medals, and 436 men-
tions in despatches.

Perhaps the most daring of these incidents
was that of Richard Bell Davies, V.C., D.S.O.,

n6 TAILS UP

R.N., a Squadron Commander in the R.N.A.S.
Setting out with Flight Sub-Lieutenant
Smylie in two bombing machines for an air
attack on Ferrijik rail way -junction, in the
Gallipoli Peninsula, at the dawn of a summer
day, Smy lie's machine was hit and brought
down by a violent anti-aircraft bombardment.
The pilot planed down over the station,
releasing all his bombs except one, which
failed to drop, simultaneously at the station
from a very low altitude. Thence he con-
tinued his descent into the marsh. On
alighting he saw the one unexploded bomb,
and set fire to his machine, knowing that the
bomb would ensure its destruction. He then
proceeded towards Turkish territory. At this
moment he perceived Squadron-Commander
Davies descending, and fearing that he would
come down near the burning machine and
thus risk destruction from the bomb, Flight
Sub-Lieutenant Smylie ran back, and from
a shots distance exploded the bomb by means
of a pistol bullet. Squadron-Commander
Davies descended at a safe distance from the
burning machine, took up Sub-Lieutenant
Smylie, in spite of the near approach of a party
of the enemy, and returned to the aerodrome.

SOME V.C.S OF THE AIR 117

The terse, official Gazette so far commits
itself as to comment, in conclusion: "A
feat of airmanship that can seldom have been
equalled for skill and gallantry.7'

Hawker — Major Lane George, D.S.O., R.E.,
and R.F.C. — was one of the earlier " stars."
Crossing to France with the original R.F.C.
squadron, attached to the B.E.F.,in September
1914, he took aeroplane pilot's " ticket " 435,
at Hendon, on a Deperdussin monoplane,
March 4th, 1913. For tackling eleven Boche
machines, single-handed, in 1915, he was
awarded the D.S.O. ; and for " most con-
spicuous bravery and very great ability "
on July 25th, 1915, the Victoria Cross.

" When flying alone he attacked three
German aeroplanes in succession. The first
managed eventually to escape, the second
was driven to the ground damaged, and the
third, which he attacked at a height of about
10,000 feet, was driven to earth in our lines,
the pilot and observer being killed.'1

He was shot down and killed by the no-
torious von Richthofen.

Another British airman with whom this
German " ace " fought a savage duel — lasting
almost sixty minutes, at a height of over

n8 TAILS UP

10,000 feet— was Second-Lieutenant Gilbert
Insall, V.C. At the critical moment both
men ran out of ammunition. After gaily
waving his hand, the "Red Battle Flyer "
disappeared behind the clouds, and Insall
returned to his base. A few weeks later he
" put up " the following great " stunt1' :

" Patrolling in a Vickers fighting machine,
with First-class Air Mechanic T. H. Donald
as gunner, a German machine was sighted,
pursued, and attacked near Achiet. The
German pilot led the Vickers machine over
a rocket battery, but with great skill Lieu-
tenant Insall dived, and got to close range,
when Donald fired a drum of cartridges into
the German machine, stopping its engine.

" The German pilot then dived through a
cloud, followed by Lieutenant Insall. Fire
was again opened, and the German machine
was brought down heavily in a ploughed field
four miles south-east of Arras. On seeing
the Germans scramble out of their machine
and prepare to fire, Lieutenant Insall dived
to 500 feet, thus enabling Donald to open
heavy fire on them. The Germans then fled,
one helping the other, who was apparently
wounded. Other Germans then commenced

SOME V.C.S OF THE AIR 119

heavy fire, but in spite of this Lieutenant
Insall turned again, and an incendiary
bomb was dropped on the German machine,
which was last seen wreathed in smoke.

" Lieutenant Insall then headed west in
order to get back over the German trenches,
but as he was at only 2,000 feet altitude,
he dived across them for greater speed,
Donald firing into the trenches as he passed
over. The German fire, however, damaged
the petrol tank, and, with great coolness,
Lieutenant Insall landed under cover of a
wood 500 yards inside our lines. The
Germans fired some 150 shells at our machine
on the ground, but without causing material
damage. Much damage had, however, been
caused by rifle fire, but during the night it
was repaired behind screened lights, and at
dawn Lieutenant Insall flew his machine
home with First-class Air Mechanic T. H.
Donald as a passenger/'

Before returning home for his investiture,
Insall determined upon a last farewell flight
over the Hun lines. Unfortunately, he en-
countered there a revengeful member of the
Richthofen Chasing Squadron, was brought
down, and taken prisoner.

120 TAILS UP

This, however, was far from the last to
be heard of this extraordinarily versatile
young man. After twenty months in solitary
confinement at Cologne, he succeeded in
breaking out of his prison ; made his way
across Germany, and via Holland, to England,
where he was subsequently decorated by
George V., who had a long talk with him
regarding his experiences.

Insall was peculiarly the type of young
man who haunts racing-tracks and aero-
dromes : the monosyllabic youth of muscular
frame, with steel wrists, unflickering grey
eyes — behind which lie such a wealth of
meaning and emotions that so rarely find
voice ; a sunny, cheerful temperament that
makes light of hardship and adversity ; and
an idiosyncrasy of dress — hair brushed back
well from the forehead, hat invariably worn
at a rakish angle, clothes spotted with petrol
and smelling strongly of oil — and manner
which rides calmly all ridicule and criticism.
A type that is ever frightened, but never
afraid !

However, that is only one type attracted
to aviation. On close observation one will
notice that personality predominates among

SOME V.C.S OF THE AIR 121

our crack pilots, from Warneford, reckless
to a degree and possessed of a warm imagina-
tion, to Rhodes-Moorhouse, who in the whole
of his twenty-five years never let a word
pass his lips concerning his own attainments,
and was accredited by his friends as " fearing
nothing on heaven or earth/' and to John
Aidan Liddell.

Had you been acquainted with the latter,
you would have accredited him studious—
a shy, somewhat bashful youth. An elusive
personality that charmed with the very
simplicity of its nature, the beauty of its
ideal, the breadth of its knowledge and
interest in life, a potential scientist, or a
brilliant leader of research, was Liddell—
in reality one of life's greatest heroes, who,
before he died, left on record a deed un-
equalled even in our glorious records.

' When on a flying reconnaissance over
Ostend-Bruges-Ghent he was severely wounded
(his right thigh being broken), which caused
momentary unconsciousness, but by a great
effort he recovered partial control after his
machine had dropped nearly 3,000 feet, and,
notwithstanding his collapsed state, suc-
ceeded, although continually fired at, in

122 TAILS UP

completing his course, and brought the
aeroplane into our lines — half an hour after
he had been wounded/' thus saving the life
of his observer.

On the latter all his thoughts were con-
centrated. As he lay upon his sick-bed,
with the knowledge that the grim hand of
Death was hourly creeping nearer, Aidan
Liddell wrote to his mother in England :

" MUMMY DEAR,

" Don't be alarmed at my little es-
capade ; will be all right again soon and be
with you. . . . Poor Peck [his observer],
what an awful time he must have had after
I fainted and we were nose-diving head-
long for the ground. . . . The Major told
me to-day that I have been recommended
for the V.C. . . .

" P.S.— Please don't go talking about this
business to all the old dowagers of your
acquaintance."

Seven days later he was dead.

The V.C. exploit of Second- Lieutenant
Rhodes-Moorhouse was a similar affair — the
temperament of the two men as dissimilar as

SOME V.C.S OF THE AIR 123

possible. In those wonder pre-war days of
1913-14 at " Brooklands," " R.M." and his
little two-seater racing-car were most familiar
figures, one might almost venture to say,
institutions. With a flash, a rattle, and
a whiff of petrol the two would whiz past
one in a narrow country road ; missing other
vehicles by inches, and turning corners on a
most amazing equipoise of the two near-side
rims.

The modesty, charm, and unselfishness of
the man were, item and item, the sum of his
friendship. His skill and daring were by-
words around the racing-track. His courage
and fortitude were yet to be revealed. When
the curtain of the world-war drama rolled
back and the stage of battle was revealed
in all its pitiless detail, the story of Rhodes-
Moorhouse's V.C. was of those few incidents
which lent the affair that atmosphere of
knightliness and chivalry which distin-
guished the battlefield of mediaeval times.
Here it is :

' For most conspicuous bravery on April
26th, 1915, in flying to Courtrai and dropping
bombs on the railway-line near that station.
On starting the return journey he was mort-

124 TAILS UP

ally wounded, but succeeded in flying for
thirty-five miles to his destination, and
reported the successful accomplishment of
his object. He died of his wounds/'

The deeds of McNamara, Read, Rees,
Robinson, and Warneford, in order told,
make the sum complete.

McNamara, lieutenant in the Australian
Forces, attached to the R.F.C?, was parti-
cipating in an " aerial bomb attack upon a
hostile construction train, when one of our
pilots was forced to land behind the enemy's
lines. Observing this pilot's predicament,
and the fact that hostile cavalry were ap-
proaching, he immediately descended to his
rescue. He did his best under heavy rifle
fire, and in spite of the fact that he himself
had been severely wounded in the thigh.
He landed about 200 yards from the damaged
machine, the pilot of which climbed on to
Lieutenant McNamara's machine, and an
attempt was made to rise. Owing, however,
to his disabled leg, Lieutenant McNamara
was unable to keep his machine straight, and
it turned over. The two officers, having
extricated themselves, immediately set fire
to the machine, and made their way across

SOME V.C.S OF THE AIR 125

to the damaged machine, which they suc-
ceeded in starting. Finally, Lieutenant
McNamara, although weak from loss of
blood, flew this machine back to the
aerodrome, a distance of seventy miles, and
thus completed his comrade's rescue/'

Captain Anketall Montray Read was
awarded his Gross, before transferring to
the Flying Corps, for a gallant piece of work
at Hulluch, that included carrying " out of
action an officer who was mortally wounded,
under a hot fire from rifles and grenades/'

" Whilst on flying duties, Major Rees
sighted what he thought to be a bombing
party of our own machines returning home.
He went up to escort them, but on getting
nearer discovered they were a party of enemy
machines, about ten in all. Major Rees
was immediately attacked by one of the
machines, and after a short encounter it
disappeared behind the enemy lines, damaged.
Five others then attacked him at long range,
but these he dispersed on coming to close
quarters, after seriously damaging two of the
machines. Seeing two others going west-
wards, he gave chase to them, but on coming
nearer he was wounded in the thigh, causing

126 TAILS UP

him to lose temporary control of his machine
He soon righted it, and immediately closed
with the enemy, firing at a close-contact
range of only a few yards, until all his am-
munition was used up. He then returned
home, landing his machine safely in our
lines."

Leefe Robinson won the V.C. and world-
wide renown at Cuffley for bringing down a
raiding Zeppelin, for the first time on these
shores.

" He attacked an enemy airship under
circumstances of great difficulty and danger,
and sent it crashing to the ground as a flaming
wreck. He had been in the air for more
than two hours, and had previously attacked
another airship during his flight/'

And Flight-Sub-Lieutenant Warneford's
was the first of the Naval " blue ribbons/'
conferred upon him in the record space of
twenty-four hours, for bringing down a
Zepp. near Evere, on June 7th, 1915.

WATCHERS OF THE SKIES

127

CHAPTER VIII

WATCHERS OF THE SKIES

IT is difficult to connect the statement that a
" successful raid was carried out last night
by Canadian troops at Lens" with the
elongated, unlovely form of the kite-balloons,
floating gently in the morning breeze, five
or six miles behind the lines. Like the eyes
of a giant octopus they stud the grey war-
front at regular intervals, from the sea
to the dim indistinction of the south horizon.
Stolid, almost immobile in appearance, there
are alert eyes peering earthward from that
tiny basket beneath the green gas-bag that
are restless and without avoidance.

Enemy arrivals and departures, even to
the hour of his — or at the time he should be
having his morning " tub," and the move-
ment of road and railway traffic to his
various headquarters, have been reduced
by lengthened observation to a schedule,
9 I2?

130 TAILS UP

as reliable as a railway time-table. At—
shall we say — eleven every morning, a supply
train comes puffing down that stretch of
shell-pocked country from L— to M— — ,
halting at M . At three in the after-
noon it returns. At an hour after sunrise
and an hour before sunset a particular group
of heavy guns shell the little town of P—
behind the British lines with unfailing re-
gularity.

Should the train be delayed up country,
and late on her time ; should that bombard-
ment vary but a few moments : within sixty
seconds the information is in the hands —
or rather the ears — of the intelligence officer
responsible. A battalion or a company
coming up for relief, a new gun opening fire,
digging begun on a new series of emplace-
ments— these aerial detectives will have the
details immediately at their finger ends.

Riding steadily from the first bright hour
of the morning to the fading visibility of
the twilight, the observer, with the enemy
lines spread out before him, a living replica
of the large-scale map in his balloon, in
direct communication with the British
" heavies " and with other balloons, amasses

WATCHERS OF| THE SKIES 131

a maze of details and accurate information
that the aeroplane, at a high altitude and
travelling at a tremendous speed, may over-
look. Hours may pass, but finally, as in-
evitable as fate, the reward will come.

The red flash of a battery shows up at
some unexpected point in the green-grey
panorama. A second later the telephone-
bell by the gound- winch will ring : " Newr
Boche battery observed at A8,A4.6. Put
me through to the ' nine-point-two ' at
M ."

The ensuing official conversation between
the observer, swaying 1,000 feet or more
above the earth, and the artillery captain
alongside his gun, hidden in a tiny wood two
miles away across country, we may not
overhear. But we can see the gun's crew
tumbling out of billets. Off comes the
tarpaulin — like the cloth from a table. An
ominous-looking shell is brought up, by
hand, from some mysterious recess and
rammed home. The men stand by.

Then the telephone in the balloon starts
up. It is the battery speaking. " We are
going to open fire" — nothing more! That
shot, however, may be the prelude to a great

132 TAILS UP

advance ; on the other hand, the first signal
for an extended defensive barrage. The
observer keeps the speaking-tube to his
mouth, and watches. His eyes are glued
to that tiny half square mile of surface before
him. Somewhere below, there echoes the
dull boom of heavy artillery. A distant
screaming fills the air. Somewhere ahead
there is a sudden burst of flame and smoke.

His comment to the battery commander
is terse and to the point : " Over ! " Again
the operation is repeated. This time the
monosyllabic advice varies to: " Short!"
Then a few seconds later an eager whisper :
" Target ! " From now on, we may say,
the balloonist is only a spectator. The dull
boom of the gun comes floating up, with
methodical regularity. The burst is, if any-
thing, rather more methodical in its vicinity.
The observer may enjoy a well-earned rest I

Then, sweeping across the sky-line, comes
the sinister grey form of H.A. — hostile air-
craft. Anti-aircraft guns open on all sides.
Immediately below a machine gun com-
mences to rattle and bark. Taking advant-
age of a rolling bank of low-lying clouds, the
daring enemy aviator is diving for the balloon

WATCHERS OF THE SKIES 133

with a murderous directness. Emerging from
the toe of the cloud, he is almost in line with
the head of the K.B. A bomb drops, and
another* — harmless enough . The fourth, how-
ever, strikes the gas-bag at a glancing angle.
A column of heavy black smoke belches
skywards. Two tiny black specks descend
rapidly from the basket. The crew have
taken to their parachutes — the life-boats of
the sinking ship. After an unpleasant and
trying five minutes they land, little worse
for their adventure.

To-morrow a fresh balloon will have taken
its place. A similar Hun craft, possibly
more, will have paid the revenge. To-
morrow the same observer in the same
position will be informing the same battery
that " his last shot went over." The Hun
aeroplane will come winging across the clouds,
possibly with the same success, more pro-
bably to pay the penalty of his daring.
The air-war is one of incessant give and take
—give and take !

Conditions will have changed ; the defence
blossomed into an offensive. Working in
co-operation with other craft and his bat-
teries, the observer will now be making

134 TAILS UP

suggestions for the locality of the barrage.
Shot by shot, some will record the artillery
fire . Others will be guaranteeing the effective-
ness of the demolition behind the enemy's
lines. A reinforcement of balloons will have
been rushed up over night — in the darkness—
and concentrated as secretly as possible in
masked camps.

At the dawn they will startle the quiet
countryside, floating up heavenward from
behind all manner of unsuspected declivities
and woods — an endless cordon, as far as eye
can reach. All the morning, and far on into
the afternoon, they will be directing artillery
fire, without cessation. Then with night-
fall, the Canadians — or, whatever troops they
may be, will go scrambling over the top,
into the adventurous shadows of " No Man's
Land," and on into the Boche trenches.

That is the modern warfare combination of
sky and earth.

THE NAVY THAT FLIES

135

CHAPTER IX

THE NAVY THAT FLIES

(Per adua, ad astro)

ON July ist, 1914, the R.N.A.S. — formerly
Naval Wing of the Royal Flying Corps —
came into being as a separate unit of the
Imperial Forces. The Force was com-
manded by Commodore Sueter, M.V.O., R.N.,
who had under him one Commander — Samson,
D.S.O. — some half a dozen squadron com-
manders, who ranked as Lieutenant-Com-
manders R.N., and a personnel of 700 officers
and men. The command was composed of
one large base for land machines, with five
smaller stations for sea-planes along the
coast.

It was not long before the new Service
had an opportunity of showing its worth,
for the Fleet, assembled for a great test
mobilisation — which eventuated in a mobili-
sation for war — was to be inspected by the

137

i38 TAILS UP

King, and the seaplanes intended giving a
display with an aggregate force of sixty-
two, twenty moored with the Fleet, one
flying boat, and some score of aeroplanes.
Affairs of State prevented the King from
being present at the review, but the seaplane
programme was carried out in its entirety.

Immediately afterwards war was declared,
and the new Service, with its handful of
antediluvian craft, by dawn of August 5th,
1914, were busy patrolling the coasts and
the North Sea for German aircraft and sub-
marines, and convoying troopships of the
British Expeditionary Force to the scene of
war. Of these craft no single machine had
a British engine. The horse-power, ranging
from 100 to 160, was supplied by both water
and air-cooled engines, and there had been
no attempt at standardisation.

Of other types of aircraft the R.N.A.S.
possessed a score or so of spherical balloons
—employed for observational purposes and
the direction of artillery — some British
" Baby " airships, which had been handed
over by the Army a month or so previous,
and a small but useful German airship.

Thus equipped, the naval arm undertook

THE NAVY THAT FLIES 139

not only Home Defence, but supplied a
squadron for patrol work along the Belgian
coast. The naval aircraft, by a series of
daring raids, attacked effectively enemy
destroyers in the North Sea, and destroyed
submarines, harbour-works, ammunition-
dumps, road and railway transport, billets,
and aerodromes in Belgium, thus forming
a sound line of defence against the enemy's
vaunted ambition, to invade the shores of
England.

To the time when the Royal Naval Air
Service with the Royal Flying Corps was
merged into the Royal Air Force, the British
Naval Air Service has been incessantly at
work, its activities extending from the British
Isles to wherever the British naval and
military forces have operated. The early
work of the service was marked by the
1914 Christmas Day raid on Cuxhaven; the
attacks on Zeppelin sheds at Diisseldorf and
Friedrichshaven ; the intrepid flying in Meso-
potamia and the dropping of 19,500 Ibs. of
food and a quantity of medical stores into
Kut between April I5th and April 29th,
1916; the operations in the Eastern Medi-
terranean, where throughout the Peninsular

140 TAILS UP

campaign the Royal Naval Air Service flew
for both Army and Navy ; in East Africa
and Rufigi, including the " spotting " and
bombing of the German warship Koenigsberg ;
the combating of enemy airmen on their
way to or returning from raiding this country ;
the destruction of three Zeppelins by Royal
Naval aircraft ; in addition to the work as
" eyes of the Fleet " in the vigil kept by our
surface craft in the North Sea, the Medi-
terranean, and elsewhere. One of the earliest
operations in the Battle of Jutland Bank was
the sending up of a seaplane by Sir David
Beatty to identify four enemy cruisers, the
seaplanes having to fly at a height of goo
feet within 3,000 yards in order to accom-
plish their purpose.

During the operations against the German
Battle Cruiser Squadron which appeared off
the East Coast on the morning of April 25th,
1916, two Zeppelins were pursued by a sea-
plane, and three submarines were forced
to submerge by another machine, while
other airmen, in spite of heavy anti-aircraft
fire, dropped bombs on the retiring cruisers.

The larger part of the effort of the " home n
sections of the Royal Naval Air Service

THE NAVY THAT FLIES 141

during the last fifteen months has consisted
in " operations in the vicinity of the coast/'

In the early stages of the war the Royal
Naval Air Service also provided crews for
armoured cars which operated against the
Germans in Belgium, while armoured-car
operations have been carried out against the
Austrians, Bulgarians, and Turks.

The concerted attacks on this country in
1915 by Zeppelins gave the Royal Naval Air
Service plenty of scope. Flight-Lieutenant
Warneford gained his V.C. by bringing down
a Zeppelin near Ghent on June yth of that
year; and on August Qth naval aircraft
attacked a returning Zeppelin and destroyed
it. In all, three Zeppelins have been ac-
counted for. In combating German aero-
planes on their way to or returning from raids
on London and other places in this country,
the Service has been most successful. In
twenty-four raids, twenty-two enemy machine
were rendered hors de combat and two others
were reported to have shared a similar
fate.

The submarine-catching activity has ex-
tended to bases in the Mediterranean, where
both seaplanes, airships, and seaplane-carriers

142 TAILS UP

are employed. And naval aeroplanes have
co-operated with the army in the north of
France, in Salonica, Italy, Mesopotamia,
Palestine, Egypt, and British East Africa.

Where the development of the Military
Wing has been with personnel, that of the
R.N.A.S. has been with aircraft. It must
be remembered, where the former employed
only aeroplanes — the military kite-balloon
not making its appearance until the end of
1915 — the latter has been responsible for
both land machine, seaplane, seaplane-carrier,
balloon, kite-balloon, and airship.

" The personnel of 700,' ' as Sir Eric Geddes
stated recently in the House of Commons,
" had increased to 41,000. . . . The duties
were varied, of great value and of absorbing
interest/' Naval airships and seaplanes are
the terror of the enemy submarine. During
a single month the aircraft patrol round the
British coast alone is more than five times
the circumference of the earth. During the
month of September 1917 sixty-four raids
were carried out on dockyards, naval depots,
aerodromes, and other objects of military
importance in Flanders beyond the enemy
lines. No fewer than 2,736 bombs were

THE NAVY THAT FLIES 143

dropped by the R.N.A.S., totalling eighty-
five tons of explosives.

" There is no doubt/' he added, "that
these raids result in great material and moral
damage, and on many occasions their effect
is shown in the aerial photographs to be
such as to hamper and restrict seriously the
enemy naval, military, and aerial under-
takings."

The Service is commanded by a commodore
of the first class, automatically a member
of the Board of Admiralty. Two other
commodores are under him, with more than
half a dozen post-captains, wing-commanders
by the dozen, and squadron-commanders
innumerable.

The R.N.A.S. now issues an almost daily
communique of its doings, and has stations
all along the coast, many of them with more
machines than the entire Service possessed
at the outbreak of war, and is busily engaged
in convoying food-ships in dangerous waters.

As an instance of a fortnight's work by
four of these naval squadrons with the Royal
Flying Corps, the following details will give
some idea of the work carried out. Over
250 machines were attacked, twenty-six were

144 TAILS UP

brought down, over thirty were driven down,
while some 150 offensive patrol raids were
made, in addition to supplying escorting
machines and carrying out reconnaissances.
" Spotting " for the heavy artillery has been
frequently undertaken on the Western Front,
and commendation has been bestowed on
the squadrons and kite-balloon sections of
the Royal Naval Air Service.

The work of the Royal Naval Air Service
in bombing Zeebrugge, the docks at Ostend,
German bases and aerodromes in Belgium
and France, has been constant — hardly a
fortnight has gone by without a series of
such raids — while repeated attacks on
destroyers, torpedo-boats, drifters, and mine-
sweepers have been undertaken.

On August gth, 1917, was the successful
raid on the Zeppelin sheds near Brussels.
On August 25th a successful attack was
made on Zeppelin sheds at Cogneloe, near
Namur. On April 23rd, 1918, three British
machines attacked five enemy destroyers
between Blankenburg and Zeebrugge, and
a direct hit was made on the leading vessel
which took a list to port ; only four of the
destroyers were seen to enter Zeebrugge

THE NAVY THAT FLIES 145

harbour, and it was thought probable that
the bombed vessel was sunk. The following
morning vessels in Zeebrugge harbour were
bombed, and a day later an air attack was
made on four destroyers discovered at sea
north of Ostend.

Towards the close of the last summer
two flights of five Sopwith scouts encountered
approximately twenty-five hostile machines
between Ostend and Ghistelles, and a general
engagement took place. Our machines
completely broke up the enemy formation,
and a number of hostile machines were either
destroyed or badly damaged.

Engaging three hostile machines conse-
cutively, one British airman shot two down
completely out of control, and a third pos-
sibly ; and five others were accounted for.
There were several other combats, but none
of these could be considered decisive. All
our machines returned safely, although five
of them were badly shot about, one machine
having no less than 113 bullet -holes and both
petrol-tanks pierced.

Throughout the whole of the operations
in the Dardanelles Peninsula the air opera-
tions were undertaken by the Royal Naval
10

146 TAILS UP

Air Service for both land and naval services.
Reconnaissance work was frequently done,
some valuable photographic information was
obtained, while on a number of occasions the
Royal Naval Air Service successfully inter-
fered with the railway and road transport.
The Berlin-Constantinople line, largely used
for transport of war material, has been fre-
quently bombed, forage stores and munition
dumps being fired, and bridges badly dam-
aged in spite of active hostile gunfire ; while
trains in motion have been bombed and
attacked with machine guns. The Zeitumlik
Powder Factory at Constantinople was
bombed, and frequent visits were made to
Adrianople station, involving long flights,
. in some cases of over 400 miles.

Crop-burning was another operation per-
formed by the Royal Naval Air Service,
enormous damage being inflicted with in-
cendiary bombs. Attacks on enemy battle-
ships, destroyers, and transports in the Dar-
danelles were frequent, and, to quote the
Turkish report, in one case only, one battle-
ship " arrived at Constantinople with her
centre turret damaged and ten men killed
as the result of an aeroplane bomb." A

THE NAVY THAT FLIES 147

number of flights have had to be made over
the open sea on aeroplanes unprovided with
floats. One of the longest night flights in
the early stages of the war was that under-
taken from a station in the Dardanelles area
for the purpose of attacking a railway bridge
at Kuleli Burgaz. The airman on his flight
to the objective was subjected to heavy
anti-aircraft fire. He descended to within
300 feet of the bridge before releasing his
bombs, both of which apparently hit the
bridge. Just afterwards engine trouble
developed, and it was with difficulty that the
airman returned to his station.

Particular attention was paid on one oc-
casion to Chanak, in consequence of informa-
tion that the Kaiser and his entourage was
paying a visit. Everything pointed to ar-
rangements being made for something spec-
tacular for the Supreme War Lord, and
abnormal activity on the part of the enemy
in the Dardanelles, together with elaborate
precautions for reporting movements of
British aircraft, all tended to confirm the
genuineness of the reported visit. In spite
of very unfavourable weather, the operation,
which it was realised would be attended by

148 TAILS UP

considerable risk, was carried out ; several
machines set out, but only one succeeded
in reaching the objective. This airman
dropped a number of bombs on the town.
On his return journey he struck the side of a
mountain in the darkness and the machine
caught fire on crashing. The pilot, although
severely injured, was able to climb out of
his machine, and was found next morning by
a Greek shepherd. At dawn next day, in
extremely bad weather, seven machines effec-
tively bombed the town, in spite of heavy
anti-aircraft fire.

The first Gotha squad to take part in the
war operated in Salonica. A steady offensive
in Southern Bulgaria by the Royal Naval
Air Service had a most demoralising effect
on the enemy. For some time places where
the heaviest anti-aircraft fire was encoun-
tered were singled out for special attention,
and after several visits our machines were
able to fly over these places with little or
no opposition.

It was mainly due to the efforts of the
British Armoured Car Division that the
enemy did not break the line in the fighting
with the Russians in the Dobrudja early in

THE NAVY THAT FLIES 149

December 1916, and the commander received
an autograph letter from the General com-
manding the 4th Siberian Army, thanking
the officers and men for their brave and un-
selfish work;

In October 1916 a number of Royal
Naval Air Service machines were despatched
from Imbros to Bucharest, a distance of 310
miles. All the machines arrived, after great
difficulty, owing to thunderstorms and thick
mists. One machine, after passing west-
ward of Adrianople, experienced bad weather
in the Balkan Mountains, and owing to a
thunderstorm the pilot lost control. He fell
from 9,000 feet to 1,000 feet, at which height
he emerged from the cloud upside-down,
regaining control at 500 feet. While in
the cloud the machine looped the loop several
times, and the compass became useless.
He landed to repair his machine on a spot
which was close to a Bulgarian camp. As
he was taxi-ing off, a party of Bulgarians
opened fire, and charging them, the pilot
scattered them with a few rounds from his
machine gun. While he was following the
course of a river in the hope of striking the
Danube, about thirty Bulgarians on a barge

150 TAILS UP

opened fire with rifles. Returning, the pilot
emptied a tray of ammunition into them,
causing them all to jump into the water.
After crossing the Danube, he ran into rain
and fog, completely losing his bearings, and
ultimately coming down in Russian terri-
tory, whence he returned to Bucharest by
train.

In the Egypt and Palestine operations
valuable reconnaissances were made. El
Arish, Horns, Beirut, Bursir, Haifa, the Levisi
district were bombed and large fires caused.
A very destructive raid was carried out by
ten seaplanes up the Haifa-Afuleh Valley.
Besides considerably damaging the camp,
a train proceeding south was bombed and
damaged, the permanent way was broken
up in various places, and a railway engine,
fourteen carriages, and a large amount of
stores burnt. The whole operation was
carried out against strong anti-aircraft fire,
and although each one of our machines was
hit, all returned safely. In the bombing of
Horns station, a flight of forty-five miles
inland, in a strong wind, causing heavy
weather, and crossing hills 1,800 feet high
in clouds at 1,500 feet, a seaplane of a

THE NAVY THAT FLIES 151

heavier type made an exceptionally fine
flight.

The East African aeroplane squadron co-
operating with General Van Deventer's
column carried out reconnaissances ahead of
the Army and bombed the German encamp-
ments. The country in which the squadron
operated in one section of the campaign made
it impossible to land a machine without
wrecking it, except in aerodromes and some-
times in river-beds. Much useful work was
done in map-making over a difficult country ;
while the enemy's porter transport was con-
siderably harassed, and despatches were
carried when other means of communication
between the distant columns had failed. On
several occasions the G.O.C. was taken up in
a machine for observation purposes.

FROM SHORE TO SHORE

153

CHAPTER X

FROM SHORE TO SHORE

FROM dawn to sundown ; from the toe of
Cornwall's rugged cliffs to the bleak shores
of the Shetland Islands ; from the grey rock
of Gibraltar, standing sentinel to the western
gate of the Mediterranean, to its counter-
part at sun-baked Suez ; from Dunmore
Head, in the extreme south, to Belfast Lough,
in the extreme north of Ireland ; from
Harwich, across the cold grey wastes of the
North Sea, to Borkum, with a blue sky o'er-
head and a favourable tide, you may see
the British Naval Air Service (Royal Air
Force) at work ; hugging the shore, or far
out hovering over the sea, like giant sea-
gulls dipping down for their prey. The
craft vary from slim grey airships to kite-
balloons rising ungainly from the belly of
a ship and giant Curtiss flying boats.
But their quest is ever the same — the nefarious
Hun U-boat *

155

156 TAILS UP

Here Jules Verne's monsters of the under-
seas and Wells' s aerial avengers meet in grim
and incessant death-conflict. Here the
most up-to-date inventions of modern science
are slowly but surely deciding the grave issue
of Civilisation versus Barbarity. A shattered
periscope in a pool of floating oil, an aerial
bird that lies broken and helpless at the
water's edge, may seem but small marks in
this whirlpool of Armageddon ; yet each
in their turn marks a long step forward in
the march. The methods they employ ?
You may gauge those best from the anecdotes
of battle which follow on.

Scouring the sky, Seaplane X. sighted a
large convoy, ten miles distant ; between
them an enemy submarine, fully on the
surface, travelling at a low speed, and within
two miles of the convoy. Winging her way,
" full-out, " at ninety miles an hour, at the
same time diving and preparing to attack,
she made for the U-boat. The latter did not
sight her until she was only three miles distant.
Then, at once, she commenced to submerge.
When the seaplane reached bombing position,
the top of the conning-tower was just awash,
and both periscopes were out of the water.

FROM SHORE TO SHORE 157

Two large bombs were released, the first of
which exploded directly on the conning-tower,
and the periscopes were seen to collapse.
The second bomb hit the water thirty feet
ahead of the conning-tow^r in a direct line
with the fore end of the submarine. The
seaplane then turned and observed a con-
siderable disturbance on the surface of the
water, with quantities of air rushing up,
giving the appearance of boiling. Two other
bombs were dropped from a thousand feet,
one of which exploded in the midst of the
disturbance. In addition to the discolora-
tion of the water caused by the bombs,
brown and white matter was observed to rise
to the surface. The seaplane remained over
the spot for a few minutes, during which the
disturbance continued, slightly increasing in
intensity. The submarine appeared to be
of a large type, painted black, carrying two
guns, one forward and one aft of the conning-
tower.

How a British seaplane of a larger type
succeeded in sinking a U-boat, in face of the
united attack of three other submarines,
three destroyers, and twro seaplanes escorting
them, is an epic of Air Service history.

158 TAILS UP

Here is the making on't. One misty morn-
ing the seaplane sighted the submarine in
near vicinity. The latter was painted light
grey, with a mast and a gun, on what appeared
to be a raised deck. By the gun was one
of the crew. Flying directly over the enemy,
the aircraft dropped a bomb, hitting the
tail of the underseas craft direct. As she
turned to repeat the attack, the British
airmen observed that the explosion had made
a large rent in the deck, and photographed
it. Then, patches of red and grey shell-burst
unexpectedly bit into the grey shroud of
the mist, heralding the approach of the
enemy reinforcements. All six vessels opened
fire on our machine, but none of their shells
was effective. The enemy seaplanes were
unable to approach, owing to the barrage
put up by the destroyers. As our seaplane
again turned completely round and passed
over the submarine, which by this time was
sinking by the stern, water being up to the
conning-tower and the nose full out of the
water, a second bomb was released, ex-
ploding fifteen feet ahead of the bow of the
submarine, causing it to vibrate and sink
immediately. The sea-surface stained with

FROM SHORE TO SHORE 159

a quantity of blackish oil, air -bubbles, and
strange matter. The destroyers and other
submarines closed in on the British seaplane,
which, having no further bombs, had to be
content with sparking a wireless message to
her base, stating the position of the de-
stroyers, and returning home in safety.

Hunting in couples, a brace of seaplanes
sighted an enemy submarine fully blown,
travelling about fourteen knots, and at
once dived to the attack. Two men were on
the conning-tower at the time. The first
machine to reach her dropped a bomb which
found good target, being detonated on the
starboard side of the submarine, halfway
between the stern and the conning-tower.
The submarine heeled slowly over to port
and remained in that position, stopped in
her own length and began to sink stern first,
the bow rising high above the water. The
second machine dropped a bomb just as the
conning-tower was disappearing . It exploded
in front, on the port side. After this bomb
had detonated, a further explosion occurred
under water, apparently at the bow of the
submarine, followed by several smaller ex-
plosions. Other bombs were dropped. The

160 TAILS UP

two men were still on the conning-tower as
the vessel sank, but nothing further was seen
of them, although the area was searched for
fifteen minutes. No oil or wreckage was seen.

Another instance was that of a seaplane
which swooped down 4,000 feet out of the
skies, and obtained two direct hits on a
trailing submarine. Flying in consort with
two aeroplanes, on patrol, she had sighted
this enemy craft — one of an unusually large
type, with two periscopes — from a distance.
Both bombs fell abaft the conning-tower,
one, at least, a palpably direct hit. Suddenly
the submarine plunged over on her back, and
with a last tremendous wriggle, vomiting
quantities of oil, disappeared. The lean
periscope knifing the surface of the water,
the sudden, roaring downwards sweep of
wings, the chaos of the explosion, the tell-
tale patch of oil on the water's edge — the
incidents vary little in the main details, the
craft occasionally.

Opinion in aviation circles is sharply
divided as to the merits and the demerits of
their respective craft, the lighter- and the
heavier-than-air. An airship man will tell
you — and not in the strictest confidence—

FROM SHORE TO SHORE 161

that an aeroplane, or, for that matter, a
seaplane is " a rakish, good-for-nothing bus."
The invariable retort of the heavier-than-air
pilot is that "an airship is a 'gas-bag/
harmless and helpless." May be that is
correct. But they have ample evidence in
their defence. Their normal flying altitude
is invaluable for this class of work. Neither
too high nor too low, from this height the
bed of the sea to a depth of twenty fathoms
is plainly distinguishable. The sinister black
form worming its way against the sandy
colour of the bottom, within the fathom limit,
stands in dire peril from above. For where
the airman can see distinctly, the submerged
submarine commander is blind ! When,
eventually, he comes to the surface, he will
find his deadly enemy awaiting him.

In one instance, an airship pilot patrolling
about noontime sighted a suspicious patch
of oil on the surface of the water. Rapidly
he sank lower, to investigate — and watch.
For his trouble he was rewarded, ten minutes
later, with the sight of a periscope breaking
water — to immediately disappear. How-
ever, swift as she was, a bomb found the
swirl of her descent,
ii

1 62 TAILS UP

When the maelstrom of the explosion died
away, oil and bubbles in large quantities
came rippling to the surface. Below, the
submarine was to be seen creeping slowly
along, with an unhealthy list to port. The
airship pilot made play with more bombs.
More bubbles and air rose to the surface,
also two heavy swirls. Meanwhile a trawler
and two motor-craft, which had watched
from afar, came dashing to the scene of
fray. Several depth-charges were brought
into action, and more bombs were dropped ;
and the surface craft kept watch till after
sunset. But nothing further was seen or
heard of that submarine.

To witness a submarine attack on a help-
less merchantman was the ill — or rather good
fortune of another airship pilot. He flew
down on the wind, at full speed, to the spot.
The submarine saw him coming and sub-
merged. Undaunted, he dropped two bombs
directly on the spot whence she had disap-
peared. In a short time several large bubbles
— one in particular being of huge size — came
to the surface. This disturbance of the water
continued for five minutes. Two trawlers
which had come up dropped depth-charges

FROM SHORE TO SHORE 163

immediately ; three of which exploded riglit
over the target. More oil came up. And
just at this juncture the wind, which had
been blowing at great force, increased to a
gale, and several fitments of the airship
being carried away, she returned to the base.

Patrolling one November afternoon, another
seaplane discovered a submarine in the act
of diving and a second submarine stationary
on the surface. Spiralling down, the pilot
got directly over the stationary submarine
and two bombs were loosed, one of which hit
the decks fairly amidships. The submarine
was hidden by the smoke of the bomb, and
when that cleared away, the vessel was sinking
with both ends in the air. In a few minutes
the submarine had disappeared, and again
a large quantity of oil came to the surface.
Nothing further was seen of the first sub-
marine.

More often than not, unfortunately, the
underseas craft is successful in its quest.
But sometimes the little God of Chance,
, perched, grimly sardonic, among the clouds,
will send an avenging plane speeding down
at the identical — and most unfortunate-
moment. Flying out to meet a merchant

164 TAILS UP

ship, a pilot observed a large disturbance on
the water, 200 yards away from the vessel.
Just afterwards the wake of a torpedo was
seen, but it missed the ship by a few yards.
The seaplane at once planed down, and in
less than a minute after sighting the sub-
marine's movements dropped two bombs
which fell and exploded within eight yards
of each other. Large quantities of oil and
bubbles then rose to the surface, while the
merchantman proceeded on her course in
safety.

Two other large seaplanes, while on patrol,
sighted an enemy submarine on the surface.
The first seaplane dropped a bomb which
exploded just abaft the centre of the sub-
marine. The submarine listed heavily to
port and went down by the stern within one
minute. The second seaplane passed over
the enemy just as he sank and dropped a
bomb which exploded in the centre of the
swirl caused by the submarine's disappearance.
Two further bombs were dropped, and nothing
more was seen of the submarine.

These air -pilots never miss an opportunity.
A seaplane saw a submarine come to the
surface. The pilot flashed across it in a

FROM SHORE TO SHORE 165

headlong dive, dropped a bomb, overshot
his target, and turned in immediately to
the attack again, to see the submarine
disappearing with a list of thirty degrees to
port. He dropped a second bomb where
she had disappeared, and a few minutes
later a patch of oil about 150 feet long and
twelve feet wide appeared on the surface.
That submarine hunts no more.

AN AERIAL PUSH

167

CHAPTER XI

AN AERIAL PUSH

THE Commanding Officer of X. Squadron
sat at his small office table. Before him lay
compasses, pencil, and scale-map, the latter
of the district that lay fifteen miles on either
side of the firing-lines. Marked off neatly
into ruled squares, the canvas contour was
printed here and there with odd letters,
the larger squares imaginarily subdivided
from one to ten. Thus at a single glance
he could locate either town or village, railway
junction or ammunition dump, to the fraction
of a yard. The Commanding Officer thought
tensely.

He studied the coloured surface steadily,
moving his compasses from side to side and
jotting down certain figures on a stray sheet
as he went. This task completed to his
satisfaction, he drew some buff official docu-
ments from his pocket and read them

169

170 TAILS UP

through with care. Then his reconnaissance
pilot came in.

Together they discussed the official report,
with due comment on the part of the senior
officer, whose concluding remark was curt
and very much to the point. " As I figure
it out/' he said, " the enemy is intending
establishing a large ammunition dump at
this position " —he indicated a point on the
map, — "probably for a concentration of
artillery in this sector, possibly as the
prelude to an infantry attack on a large
scale. That dump must be destroyed at all
costs."

The pilot saluted smartly and went out;
An hour later he presented a detailed account.
Read in the terse phraseology of report form
it ran: "10,000 feet, 10.20 a.m. B,D2.5.
Observed congestion traffic on the roads and
railways. Former lined to length of half a
mile with convoy of ammunition motor-
lorries — convoy proceeding westerly direction.
On the sidings of the railway-track, which
lies approximately half a mile due east of
this point — B,Dz.5 — two long trains of
trucks — approximate number twelve apiece
—both heading west. In S— — - station,

AN AERIAL PUSH 171

half-mile to the east, another train observed ;
locomotive with steam up, heading same
direction. Distinct evidences of some form
of building taking place in a small wood
that runs alongside the main road — B,D2.4.
Surface of surrounding fields marked with
distinct traces newly- worn footpaths ; all
leading up to. the point B,D 2.5. Significant
fact that, though in this sector anti-aircraft
bombardment usually severe, to-day I was
able to circle round at a low altitude with-
out a shot being fired."

On the strength of this, the C.O. despatched
a photographic machine to the map position
B,D2.5. The latter pilot's mission was no
sinecure. Flying extremely low- — to acquire
better focus — they will be working through
an incessant anti-aircraft bombardment for
an hour or an hour and a half on end. Within
an hour of landing their new negatives will
have been developed. Thence they are passed
on to the Intelligence Department, who
compare them with previous photos of the
same area.

This case proved no exception to the rule.
Headquarters tested it, first by this theory,
and then by that ; discussed it ; deprecated

172 TAILS UP

it ; and finally Whether the fact that,

late that night, two large transports slipped
down Southampton Water into the inky
darkness of the Channel, with, battened
securely beneath their hatches, the accumu-
lated portions of several heavy-calibre howit-
zers, and the 2nd E— — s and the I4th W s

received sudden marching orders, where they
were quartered in a sleepy village in the south
of England, that their services to their King
and country would be of more value else-
where— that elsewhere being vaguely in-
timated to be somewhere in the north of
France — has any connection, may best be
judged from ensuing events.

Anyhow, for the members of X — —
squadron the following week was one of the
busiest of their embittered young lives.
Every pilot had his hands full ; reconnais-
sance, bombing, and combat bound. The
observers went with them . And every branch
of work was a specialised branch.

In fact every pilot and observer in the
Flying Corps to-day is employed with some
special purpose, the craft included, and they
vary from the fast rapid-climbing fighting
machines to the slower and more cumbrous

AN AERIAL PUSH 173

reconnaissance and spotting craft with greater
powers of duration. There are varying de-
grees of pilots, and the observers have
varying degrees of duty to perform. But
every available aeroplane was necessary to
X— - squadron for the particular job they
had on hand.

Primarily it was necessary to gain undis-
puted sway of their particular section of the
aerial front. This was accomplished by the
fighting scouts — grey, dour-looking craft
that went flashing Up into the heavens at
all hours of the day, some singly, some in
orderly methodical squadrons. Theirs was
usually a roving commission . They wandered
whither they would and when they would,
without order and without question.

This meagre 8 per cent., who alone of many
thousands of pilots were qualified to under-
take the strenuous business of aerial combat,
made as many years' history in as few days.
Of them, one — official etiquette demands his
identity be no more revealed than a " certain
pilot " — met two unwary Huns a-roaming ;
which brought his bag of Boche machines to
twenty-one. A further victim swelled his
list the following afternoon. And the ensuing

174 TAILS UP

twenty-four hours of rain only left him more
eager and determined for the one great
adventure of the " push."

At 10,500 feet — exactly two miles high, he
skirted the clouds in the early sunshine, wait-
ing and watching. Below, a squadron of six
Hun bombers swept past in an orderly line.

Of those who serve the air is demanded
instant determination. Machines and men
must move with celerity that is bewildering
to the landsman. The three miles an hour
of the infantryman is the sixty, the eighty,
the hundred of the airman. Planning his
action as he dived, that certain pilot took
the enemy formation above and slightly
hrrear . His first half -drum of bullets brought
a leading machine tumbling and spinning
out of the line. Another dropped out of the
fight, to make her base with a bullet-ridden
wing.

By this time the Britisher had shot ahead,
with four machine guns trained full on his
back. Nevertheless he wheeled back into
the fight again, accounting for a further
victim. Which necessitated, by every rule
of Hun warfare, the remainder switching
their tails for home.

AN AERIAL PUSH 175

With an unimpeded airway, the reports
the reconnaissance pilots and observers
brought in varied as widely as the front
they circled. The information grew more
concrete, more definite, as day succeeded day.
Like a "movie" picture, the scenes flashed
on to the screen in proper sequence. First
came the enemy labour battalions, swarming
like ants below, busy about the concrete
bases for the heavy guns, which arrived in
due course — deadly and disgruntled, on trucks
drawn by puffing tractors.

Infantry — from 10,000 feet, shapeless,
sprawling masses of grey — choked every
roadway leading up to the direction of the
lines ; accompanying them the customary
columns of supply. Some twenty miles across
the lines an observer jubilantly wirelessed
home the discovery of a new ly-inch howitzer
position. Five miles east and out of his
sight another reconnaissance machine had
detected the advance of considerable enemy
reinforcements. From yet another quarter
there came the welcome news of the dis-
covery of a new enemy ammunition dump.
And from another, "Nothing to report "
this the most significant news of any. That

176 TAILS UP

particular area would be kept under closer
observation than any in the near future.

" The movements of the enemy were
watched and a great many hostile batteries
were located and reported to our artillery/*

Adventures attendant on these manoeuvres
were many and varied. In his own peculiar
phraseology a wounded officer of the R.F.C. :
" They saw/' he said, " something doing in
the rear of the Hun lines, flew down to have
a closer look, and came under the fire of
some ' archies/ A direct hit smashed the
engine. The pilot didn't lose control, but
planed down as much in the direction of
the British line as he could. They came to
earth inside the Boche lines, unhurt, nipped
out of the ruined 'bus' pretty quick, and
started running in the direction of the British
trenches.

" After running for some time they spotted
a sort of erection affair, like a big gun-pit.
They crept closer and heard the Boches
talking. It was a gun-pit. So they squatted
down and made a sketch map of it, with
a bearing or two to get the proper range.
After that they crept and ran and crawled
until they got to the back of the canal.

AN AERIAL PUSH 177

They had to swim for it, and as they left
the bank a couple of Boche snipers got a
bead on them, and they had just time to
locate the beggars hiding in sunken barrels
before they dived. They swum under water,
coming up for a breather now and then,
with the Boche snipers blazing away, but
they got through all right . While still dressed
only in wet shirts they got on the 'phone to
our heavies, and gave the exact location of
that gun- pit, as well as the two barrels.
Next thing that happened was a series of
direct hits on that gun emplacement and
the two snipers' barrels were sent sky-high/'
Bit by bit, item by item, these reports
were all pieced together. To the staff officer,
running through the observers' reports with
his map, the country revealed itself, army
corps by army corps, gun by gun, and trench
by trench, until he knew exactly what areas
required the attention of our artillery and
what could be ignored. And if the Staff
was the head that directed affairs, no less
were the aircraft the eye and the brain that
supplied the directions. The two work al-
ways in the closest co-operation. A chance
aerial report shows up at G.H.Q. Commotion
12

178 TAILS UP

is immediate. Along the wires is flashed
the news up to Divisional Headquarters.
More commotion ; more consultation. Then
a telephone-bell tinkles somewhere miles
ahead. The bombardment has begun.

In the marionette show of the great game
of war the figures — the infantry in the front-
line trenches and the heavies immediately
behind them — only move to the manipula-
tion of the wires by the staff at G.H.Q.
There is the power centre that gives life, by
way of innumerable lines, to these smoulder-
ing masses.

In the matter of artillery bombardment
aircraft were again indispensable. Before the
batteries opened fire the aeroplane would be
circling over the objective; and when the
bombardment opened they commenced wire-
lessing back to the battery the positions of
the bursts of their shells ; thuswise, " Your
last shot over/' or " short of," or " too
much to the left or right."

On the other hand, some positions were
too far distant to be shelled. These it would
be necessary to raid. Manoeuvres of this
nature were mostly carried out during the
night. And that was the most difficult

AN AERIAL PUSH 179

flying work of all. X. Squadron realised
this fact to its fullest extent.

Setting off in the darkness, with a highly
explosive cargo aboard, the pilots would
have to literally feel their way, with no land-
mark to guide them to their objectives.

At the low altitude at which they flew
they were liable, at any moment, to be
picked up by a German searchlight and
shot down to earth. Having reached their
objective and having dropped their bombs,
they had yet to make the return journey
and land in the dark.

Daylight raids were few and far between.
But, such as they were, the Boche had an
admirable object-lesson set him — that, in
this most barbarous form of warfare of the
ages, there were yet finer and more delicate
distinctions. The British pilots, in order
to bomb the true objectives and not to
massacre helpless civilians, came unusually
low, in grave risk of their own necks, and
rarely missed their mark. From a height
of little above the lines of telegraph-wires
alongside the railway that "certain pilot"
of X. Squadron cheerfully strafed a convoy,
and a moment later lessened his machine of

i8o TAILS UP

the weight of several drums of bullets,
placing same into both sets of windows of
a troop train, and inflicting many casualties.

The enemy's guns continued their delicate
attentions all along the line, but were unable
to prevent him from bombing another train
in a siding. The engine of the latter rocked
off the rails at the shock of the first impact,
the driver giving obvious refutation to the
theory that German dignity never takes to
its heels. The quick eye of the pilot caught
sight of numerous boxes in the trucks. Am-
munition, he thought. From a height of
fifteen feet he sprayed them with shot ; but
without result. Again he returned ; still
nothing happened.

Somewhat apologetic he afterwards ex-
plained the situation to the commanding
officer. "Heavens, man!" exclaimed the
latter, " did it never strike you what would
have happened if you had hit that am-
munition ? '

"I'm afraid it didn't, sir." The pilot
blushed ; he was very young. In the ensuing
" push" that certain train fell into the hands
of the British. Therein high explosive was
piled up from end to end.

AN AERIAL PUSH 181

By this time the push was almost ready
to begin. The fighting scouts were tutned
out to scour the skies in all directions. Now,
more than at any time, it was necessary to
keep the enemy from the air. One German
machine overhead would discover the move-
ment, put his corps commander on his
guard, and lead our men into ambush instead
of victory.

The condition of the air was particularly
unhealthy. Anti-aircraft shells, rifle bullets,
artillery shells, small and great, were burst-
ing all round. Were one of the latter — say,
a 1 5-inch — to hit a machine, it would simply
vanish into thin air.

Yet while all this was going on the aero-
plane pilot had, perforce, to keep in touch
with the infantry, watch how the push
proceeded, and constantly report progress
to headquarters, thus proving that air-
craft were indispensable to any stage of the
modern battle.

In the next day's newspapers appeared a
glowing account of an advance of three-
quarters of a mile on an eight-mile front.
The X. Squadron of the R.F.C. figured
largely in a subsequent field- marshal's

182 TAILS UP

despatch. The commanding officer got his
D.S.O. And for that " certain pilot " ar-
rived one day, by motor orderly, a thin
buff slip, on which was scrawled in faded
pencil, " Well done !— D.H."

WORK AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE
ROYAL FLYING CORPS

183

CHAPTER XII

WORK AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE ROYAL
FLYING CORPS

THE remarkable feature of the R.F.C. apart
from its development is that it is the outcome
of the genius and foresight of a single man
Lieutenant-General Sir David Henderson,
K.C.B., D.S.O. As a Brigadier, Sir David
took as early a flying certificate as No. 118,
and when the R.F.C. was officially constituted
in June 1912 he was immediately appointed
Director of Military Aeronautics.

In those times the Flying Corps comprised
both Naval and Military wings ; and con-
trolled aeroplanes, balloons, and airships
alike. But the chief occupation of the Di-
rector appeared to be that of obtaining the
necessary finance from conservative-minded
politicians who regarded aviation as a wild
sport for adventurous young men. What
Sir David accomplished on that miserable

185

i86 TAILS UP

pittance would open the eyes of a company-
promoter wide with envy.

Thus, after the R.N.A.S., on July ist,
1914, had been constituted a separate body,
and when, a month prior to the war, a
concentration of R.F.C. squadrons was held
on Salisbury Plain, no more than five
squadrons could be assembled. And they
aggregated forty-odd machines !

By borrowing motor transport and
machines from the Central Flying School
this total was raised — so Lord Curzon in-
formed us, in his tribute to the Flying Ser-
vices, in the House of Lords, October 29th,
1917 — to sixty- six machines and 100 flying
officers. Not one of these machines possessed
a greater horse-power than eighty, speed of
more than seventy miles an hour, or a British-
built engine. Yet they all flew across to
France without mishap — a great feat in
those days. And forty-eight hours later
they were in operation on the western front.

DEVELOPMENT

What has been accomplished in the in-
terval may best be judged by a further
reference to Lord Curzon' s speech. " It all

THE ROYAL FLYING CORPS 187

seemed like the survival of the romance of
a bygone age. The 100 flying officers and
few machines we possessed at the outbreak
of war had grown into an enormous fleet
consisting of thousands of machines and tens
of thousands of men'' ; by the statement
of Major Baird, in the House of Commons,
that : " There are now 958 firms engaged
with work for the Director of Aeronautical
Supplies — 301 as direct contractors, and 657
as sub-contractors, with a possible output of
sixteen machines per month apiece." Taking
this to be the average output, the yearly
aggregate would be 57,792 machines ! And
by the fact that most months — sometimes
weeks — we lose more aeroplanes than con-
stituted the original Expeditionary Force.

Vast as has been the development of the
sister service, R.N.A.S., it can in no way
compare to that of the R.F.C. The latter
is now a great army in itself. The Com-
mander is a Major-General, who, as Director-
General of Military Aeronautics, is ex-officio
member of the Army Council, and is " re-
sponsible to the Secretary of State for so
much of the business relating to the ad-
ministration of the Army Air Service as is

i88 TAILS UP

not subject to the control of either the Air
Board or the Ministry of Munitions, and as
may be assigned to him from time to time
by the Secretary of State.' '

A day rarely goes by without some refer-
ence* to the work of the airmen in the Head-
quarters Official. And the Corps has been
honoured by the King as Colonel-in-Chief ;
while aerodromes have sprung up in every
county and district in the United Kingdom.
At one time, at a large aerodrome may be
seen as many machines in the air as con-
stituted the original Flying Corps. And there
are more aeroplanes flying over Great Britain
to-day than there are motor-cars running in
the streets !

The Flying Corps has developed for the
most part at home ; where it now also com-
bines the duties of home defence against
raiding aircraft, and supplies craft and per-
sonnel to the armies on the western front,
Salonica, Palestine, India, Italy, Mesopo-
tamia, South and British East Africa. Air-
craft factories have sprung up literally in
hundreds, each employing thousands of skilled
mechanics and trained women. Dozens of
officers and hundreds of men are employed

THE ROYAL FLYING CORPS 189

at every aerodrome. The Air Board itself
necessitates a small army of experts, secre-
taries, orderlies, and clerks. The Aviation
Inspection Department may be numbered in
thousands. And the Air Services now claim
a separate financial estimate.

The Corps is sub-divided into wings,
squadrons, and flights ; each with its own
Commander. The personnel is composed of
pilots, observers, photographers, wireless ex-
perts, balloon pilots, equipment officers,
engineers, trained mechanics, and women—
the last being supplied by the Women's
Army Auxiliary Corps.

ADMINISTRATION

Sir David Henderson continued to be in
command of the R.F.C. until October I2th,
1917, when it was announced by the Secre-
tary of the War Office that : " Having been
deputed to undertake special work, he had
been lent for such services, and had thereby
vacated his seat on the Army Council/'

The announcement continued that : " The
Secretary of State for War had appointed
Major-General J. M. Salmond as his successor

igo TAILS UP

as Director-General of Military Aeronautics,
with a seat on the Army Council/'

At the same time Major-General Brancker,
Deputy Director of Military Aeronautics,
was appointed to a command abroad, and
for the present, it was further announced,
his place would not be filled, thus leaving
the original Headquarters Staff with :

Director. — Brevet Lieutenant-Colonel L. C. O.
Charlton, C.M.G., D.S.O., Lancashire Fusiliers.

Deputy Assistant Director. — Major and
Brevet Lieutenant-Colonel W. D. Dooner,
Army Ordnance Dept.

Deputy Assistant Adjutant-General. — Lieu-
tenant (temporary Major) H. S. Ebben,
R.F.C., S.R.

Staff Captain. — Captain C. F. Gordon,
M.C., North Lancashire Regiment.

Major-General Trenchard, who, from the
time of Sir David Henderson's return to
England in 1915, succeeded him as C.O. in
the field, is still controlling the work of the
R.F.C. in the war area, and is ably assisted
by Temporary Brigadier-General E. L. Elling-
ton, while Major-General Ashmore is respon-
sible for the aerial defences of London.

On November 2nd it was announced by

THE ROYAL FLYING CORPS 191

The London Gazette that the King has been
pleased, by Letters Patent under the Great
Seal of the United Kingdom of Great Britain
and Ireland, bearing date October i8th, to
appoint :

Major and Brevet Lieutenant-Colonel (tem-
porary Major-General) John Maitland Sal-
mond the new Director-General of Military
Aeronautics, taking the place of Lieutenant-
General Sir David Henderson, K.C.B., D.S.O.

IN THE FIELD

Leaving the matter of administration, let
us turn again to the more practical side,
that of the work of the R.F.C. in the field.
We had left those 100 gallant pilots and
their sixty-odd decrepit craft at the time
of the first landing. Of their glorious achieve-
ment in holding the air, through many
strenuous months, against the 600 well-
equipped aeroplanes with which the enemy
took the field ; of the reconnaissance pilot
who first brought news to Sir H. Smith-
Dorrien that his advanced division was faced
by three German Army Corps ; of the British
aircraft whose timely information saved

192 TAILS UP

the Allies, and the world, in that historic
retreat from Mons, and of many other inimit-
able deeds of the pilots of the R.F.C., we
have heard and read on countless occasions.

There is no need for us to dwell upon that
glorious chapter of British history; that
opened the book at the Aisne, and turned
the last page at that bloody second battle
of Ypres. The years of nineteen fourteen,
fifteen, and sixteen marked a period of re-
markable evolution in aviation. Some sort
of policy had, perforce, to be formulated'
that dealt comprehensively with this latest
form of warfare. The nucleus of a great
personnel had to be established and developed'
to maintain the evergrowing expansion.
Types of new machines had to be experi-
mented, constructed, tested ; and adopted
or discarded. And reconnaissance, direction of
artillery, wireless telegraphy, aerial gunnery,
photography, and bomb-dropping had to be
placed upon some suitable basis.

I repeat : the first three years of the war
were merely a period of evolution as regards
aviation. It was not until the spring of
1917 that aerial warfare naturally developed.
And proof of this assertion may be amplified

THE ROYAL FLYING CORPS 193

by a reference to Sir Douglas Haig's daily
reports from Headquarters, and from the
fact that 717 aeroplanes — of all nations-
were destroyed in April and 713 in June
alone.

The progress achieved by the R.F.C. in
this matter may best be judged from — an
unintentional tribute — a report written by a
Commander in the 3ist German Infantry
Regiment, which was captured by our
troops north of the Ancre. Describing the
bombardment of his trench, he says :

" Enemy airmen were over our position
the whole day and came down very low.
They directed the fire throughout. Our own
artillery seems to have fired very little.
German airmen appeared only towards even-
ing, but the enemy's airmen would not let
themselves be disturbed in their work. No-
thing is left of the trench/ '

In every big battle of the year aircraft
have played a prominent part. Thus we
find an expert French commentator, on
March 22nd, 1917, after the advance, writing :

" Despite bad weather, there was consider-
able air activity in the zone of the enemy's
retreat. French and British aviators fur-
13

194 TAILS UP

nished their general staffs with most valuable
information, and successfully drove off many
enemy machines."

Again, concerning the big push round
Bapaume, Mr. Philip Gibbs gives the follow-
ing glimpses of the work of the R.F.C. :

" Flights of British aeroplanes were up
and singing with a loud deep humming music,
as of monstrous bees. Our Archies were
strafing a German 'plane, venturesome over
our country. High up in the blue was the
rattle of machine-gun fire. . . .

" The Germans have a cavalry screen
behind their rearguards. They were seen
yesterday north of Bapaume and southwards
beyond Roye. And some of them were
chased by a British airman at a place called
Ennemain. He swooped low like an alba-
tross, and brought a man off his horse by a
machine-gun bullet. Others stampeded from
this terrible bird."

In the advance, towards the end of April,
Sir Douglas Haig made constant references
to the activity of the airmen. And Mr.
Beach Thomas, in The Daily Mail, sums the
whole affair up as follows :

" We have never before hit the German

THE ROYAL FLYING CORPS 195

so hard or so harassed him by day and night.
A night or two ago our men broke up three
trains near Douai, one after the other, with
bombs dropped from a couple of hundred feet,
and so terrified soldiers and other officials
with the rattle of machine-guns that the
attackers escaped with scarcely an attempt
at resistance. A day later two of our fighting
'planes which had sought the Germans in
vain for several previous days suddenly came
upon a fleet of fourteen . . . charged this
motley group, broke up the formation, and
sent two crashing to the ground.

" The enemy's losses in purely fighting
machines are enormously greater than ours.
His plan when he attacks is to mass his 'planes
against a single observer, knowing that most
observing 'planes are no match for the
fighter. . . .

" We hold again the mastery of the air.
Whether we keep it depends, first and fore-
most, on the activity of the factories at
home. As I was listening at the aerodrome
to a stirring tale of a duel that lasted for
half an hour, a speck was seen in the air and
the first home-comer of a patrol of three
was recognised. He landed and " taxied "

1 96 TAILS UP

up to us. The clouds had been too low for
good flying. He had had no adventures,
he said, and was home first because the
engine was giving a little trouble. Then he
looked over the machine and saw what we
had already seen — a huge rent and a broken
wire in the body of the 'plane. Clearly a
great lump of shrapnel had struck a yard
or two behind his back. We had the ex-
planation presently when another two re-
turned. The neighbour pilot had seen an
extra double- sized shrapnel shell from an
anti-aircraft gun burst just between the
two of them — an alarming fact, of which
the younger pilot had been wholly unaware.

" Evidence accumulates of the depression
caused among the enemy's infantry by the
activity of our airmen. A German docu-
ment describes the moral effect on infantry
of balloons ' hanging like grapes in clusters '
and watching every movement below/'

A yet more complete survey of a period
of R.F.C. work on the western front was
furnished by the Military Correspondent of
The Times, in the first of his series of special
articles :

11 In four months before Arras our aero-

THE ROYAL FLYING CORPS 197

planes reported 1,589 direct hits on German
guns, as well as some 200 important ex-
plosions, so that the German administration,
which was already hard put to it to repair
its guns, to create a reserve, and to provide
artillery for the new divisions, must have
had an anxious time. . . .

" I only saw two German aeroplanes cross
our lines during my visit to the British front,
and when some of ours came up and drove
them off I thought that ours looked like
thoroughbreds and the German hackneys.
There were, however, plenty of German
aeroplanes on the German side of the line,
as well as many observation balloons. The
Fokker is fairly played out on the western
front, where the Albatross one-seat er and
the Halberstadter represent the best single-
seater fighting machines of the enemy. The
former has two guns firing through the pro-
peller and a 160 h.p. Mercedes engine. The
Roland, the L.V.G., the Rumpler, and the
Aviatik are the most common two-seater
'planes. Fighting, reconnaissance, and artil-
lery work are carried out by separate units,
and a sharp distinction is drawn between
these different spheres of aerial activity.

198 TAILS UP

The organisation of the German Air Service
is fairly well known to us, and we also know
to our cost that we were met by superior
numbers of fast single-seater fighting machines
at the opening of this year's campaign.

On June 8th, after the taking of the Mes-
sines Ridge, Field-Marshal Sir Douglas Haig
congratulated the R.F.C. in the following
terms :

" Following on the great care and thorough-
ness in the preparations made under the
orders of General Sir Herbert Plumer, the
complete success gained may be ascribed
chiefly to the destruction caused by our
mines, to the violence and accuracy of our
bombardment, to the very fine work of the
R.F.C. , and to the incomparable dash and
courage of the infantry/'

While, towards the end of the summer
— August 28th — The Daily Mail published
a dispatch from Mr. Beach Thomas, describ-
ing what must have been a record week in
the air. Said Mr. Thomas :

" I have just read the summing-up of a
week's journeyman's work by our Flying
Corps in France, and it so excels all that is on
record in fact, or indeed in fiction, that I

THE ROYAL FLYING CORPS 199

will omit the stirring tales of all individual
adventures in favour of a mere naked epitome.
The properest work of the airmen in war is
the finding of the enemy's guns and directing
fire on them. That is what matters most,
though it is the least dramatic in telling, and
it is chiefly in this department that past
experience has been excelled.

" From August i4th to 2ist our airmen
helped the guns to range on well over 700
German batteries. They and the gunners
worked so well together that 128 gunpits
were totally destroyed, and among the bat-
teries 321 separate explosions were caused.

" The figures indicate the immense scale
of the artillery fighting, as well as of aerial
observation. Indeed, such now is the in-
tensity of the gunfire that what is called a
counter-attack does not necessarily imply
any movement of infantry at all.

" Under good observation from the enemy
it may be as dangerous for the field gunners
to fire as for infantry to go over the parapet.
At the same time unobserved gunners can
drive back the infantry without the need
of help from their own infantry. Such
experiences have been common in the last

200 TAILS UP

few weeks. In the recent fighting the gunners
have had almost the same sensation of a
hand-to-hand battle as the charging infantry,
and have needed the same sort of courage
and calmness.

"In places the Germans, though they
have lost their so-called grand stands or
super-observation points, as Vimy and Hill 70
and Messines and Pilkem Ridge, have still
one or two ridges which force all the duty of
observation on our airmen.

" As to the rest of this unparalleled week
in our airmen's records let the bare figures
speak for themselves. They flew in the
week over 1,200 hours ; they took another
5,000 photographs of the enemy's territory ;
they dropped over 2,000 bombs, amounting
to about thirty-six tons in weight ; they
fired more than 30,000 rounds from low levels
at the enemy's infantry and gunners ; they
brought down sixty-eight enemy 'planes, and
are known for a certainty to have driven
down ninety more, of which a great number
were certainly destroyed.

" It must be remembered that our authori-
ties are as strict as an adverse judge in sifting
the evidence of crashed machines. Many

THE ROYAL FLYING CORPS 201

not recorded even as hit are crashed, as later
evidence has often proved. The German
airmen, rather like the German gunners,
have been braver at night than by day.
They have bombed many places, from hos-
pitals to harvest fields/'

The most important reference to the R.F.C,
of the year, however, was contained in a
long dispatch from Sir Douglas Haig, con-
cerning the battle of the Somme.

Writing of the German trenches between the
Somme and the Ancre, Sir Douglas Haig says :

" The second system itself, in many places,
could not be observed from the ground in
our possession, while, except from the air,
nothing could be seen of his more distant
defences. . . .

"On June 25th the R.F.C. carried out a
general attack on the enemy's observation
balloons, destroying nine of them, and de-
priving the enemy for the time being of this
form of observation. . . .

" On the same day (September 26th)
Gueudecourt was carried, after the protecting
trench to the west had been captured in a
somewhat interesting fashion. In the early
morning a Tank startecj down the portion

202 TAILS UP

of the trench held by the enemy from the
north-west, firing its machine-guns and fol-
lowed by bombers. The enemy could not
escape, as we held the trench at the southern
end. At the same time an aeroplane flew
down the length of the trench, also firing
a machine-gun at the enemy holding it.
These then waved white handkerchiefs in
token of surrender, and when this was
reported by the aeroplane the infantry ac-
cepted the surrender of this garrison. By
8.30 a.m. the whole trench had been cleared,
great numbers of the enemy had been killed,
and eight officers and 362 other ranks made
prisoners. Our total casualties amounted to
five.

"In this combination between infantry
and artillery the R.F.C. played a highly im-
portant part. The admirable work of this
Corps has been a very satisfactory feature
of the battle. Under the conditions of modern
war the duties of the Air Service are many
and varied. They include the regulation
and control of artillery fire by indicating
targets and observing and reporting the
results of rounds ; the taking of photographs
of enemy trenches, strong points, battery

THE ROYAL FLYING CORPS 203

positions, and of the effect of bombardments ;
and the observation of the movements of
the enemy behind his lines.

' The greatest skill and daring has been
shown in the performance of all these duties,
as well as in bombing expeditions. Our Air
Service has also co-operated with our infantry
in their assaults, signalling the position of
our attacking troops, and turning machine-
guns on to the enemy infantry and even on
to his batteries in action.

" Not only has the work of the R.F.C. to be
carried out in all weathers and under constant
fire from the ground, but fighting in the air
has now become a normal procedure, in
order to maintain the mastery over the
enemy's Air Service. In these fights the
greatest skill and determination have been
shown, and great success has attended the
efforts of the R.F.C. I desire to point out,
however, that the maintenance of mastery
of the air, which is essential, entails a con-
stant and liberal supply of the most up-to-
date machines, without which even the
most skilful pilots cannot succeed/' A happy
augury for the future of the lately formed
R.A.F.

MOONLIGHT OVER THE BATTLE

205

CHAPTER XIII

MOONLIGHT OVER THE BATTLE

IF you really want to know what our flying
men are doing over there, avoid reading the
Daily Officials. They recount little enough
to satisfy even a British Board of Censors.
Should sense of duty compel you so to do,
it is between the lines that history is steeped.
It is the commas that are often likely clues,
and the full-stops that reveal whole chapters.
Here are two of them with, packed between,
in terse phrasing, the makings of a sen-
sational " romantic novel/' " Two of our
aeroplanes which were reported missing in
the communiques of the last two days have
since returned to their squadrons/ ' Never
a word as to what occurred in that trying
ordeal of the twenty-four-hour interval.
Again, " Sixteen of our machines have not
yet been located. Many of these have un-
doubtedly made forced landings behind our

207

208 TAILS UP

lines owing to the difficulty of finding their
aerodromes in the heavy rain " — like the word-
less film version of a great sensational play.

Who wishes to get to grips with that
adventurous spirit that animates the air
must himself essay the terrors and the joys
of the airmen. One must go racing up to
the sky when the first flush of dawn is in
the east, the icy blast worming into one's
bones ; the earth surface opening out on
all sides like the petals of a new-blown rose ;
when the sudden storm comes squalling
up from interminable space ; when the light
is blotted out by the darkness of night.
That is the time when the vast shadows
harbour friend and foe in every yard, danger
and adventure in every mile. Follow that
squadron there sweeping across the British
trenches, their powerful engines echoing and
re-echoing along the still grey lines for miles
on either hand, a night bombing expedition
on its outward way.

The night is black — black as a raven's
wing. The moon has not yet come up ; the
stars are cloaked behind an impenetrable
canopy. But the faintest pin-heads of light
indicate the raiders' locality. As they come

MOONLIGHT OVER THE BATTLE 209

up, with a gradually increasing audibleness,
they fill the skies with a tumultuous roaring
and then die away into the dark uncertainty
of No-Man's Land ahead.

Their Squadron Commander is at their
head. In rear of him — keeping precise and
well-ordered formation — ride six cumbersome
" bombers," loaded heavily with high ex-
plosives. Another fighting scout hovers on
the extreme left ; now darting out in the
darkness toward some suspicious light ; now
diving in to regain formation. Some faint
quivering signal flashes in from the leader.
They are well over the enemy's country by
now, and must climb to avoid possible anti-
aircraft traps. Eight blunt noses veer up-
wards simultaneously. The combined roar
of eight engines dies away perceptibly.

Almost too late ; red, angry bursts pepper
the blackness ; murderous, whining shrieks
make themselves audible, even above the
racing motors. The squadron hesitates, loses
formation, regains it, and flies on. The
battle-plane on the left dives down, head-
long, at the flashing gun-mouths. A bomb
or so goes hurtling down into the night,
awakening the quietened country-side with

210 TAILS UP

murderous detonations. And then, when all
danger seems to be passed, the leader sud-
denly lunges down out of position ; rolling
and quivering, like a wounded bird.

A hostile searchlight focuses him, bring-
ing him well within sight of his pack, until,
1,000 feet lower, he regains control ; turns
with a sharp bank, and heads towards his
base. His squadron flies on, leaving in
rear a renewed burst of firing, and a sky
slashed and lined with innumerable search-
lights. Instinct whispers them to wheel to
his aid ; duty, to carry on ahead. Their
orders are definite.

Left to his own devices, the leader clears
the bombardment, slithers out of search-
light range, and brings his battered 'plane
to earth between the opposing lines of
trenches. Travelling at well over sixty miles
an hour across the hillocky surface, his
machine suddenly tilts nose-foremost into
a deep shell-hole. There is a crash of splinter-
ing wings and wood- work; the force of the
collision starts off a bomb.

Soon — very soon — the declivity is a mass
of burning wreckage. Fighting for life, the
pilot manages to extricate himself, and

MOONLIGHT OVER THE BATTLE 211

scramble up on to the surface. His leather
flying-coat well alight, his eyes and throat
choked with smarting, blinding smoke, he
rolls over and over on the ground to the
banks of a tiny stream, tumbles in, and loses
consciousness, as several dark figures come
swarming over the top of the British trenches.
There is a rapid exchange of rifle shots with
the enemy infantry, who have also witnessed
the catastrophe, and they hurriedly pick
him up and carry him back to their own
trenches.

That sunset hour is the busiest of the air-
man's whole twenty-four. Before the light
goes west occurs that tense ceremony of
watching the birds come " winging home
to roost/ ' From time to time, during the
day, pilots have been reported missing.
Sundown is the last call. If the missing
man doesn't come slithering in at sundown,
the chances are that he will never return at
all.

Anxious groups — making believe with
laughter and fooling — gather on the aero-
drome ; counting the tiny black shapes, one
by one, as they show up on the sky-line;
tally them in their minds until the last

TAILS UP

man has landed safely; and then move off
towards the Mess. Never before !

After sunset, when the turmoil of the
day-battle, the roaring hubbub of the guns,
and the distant crackle of rifle fire, have
died away, when the first trench rockets
hiss skywards, in a spluttering trail of light,
these aerodromes, free of the resonant hum
of mighty engines and bustle of mechanics
and pilots, are strangely forlorn in appearance.

But farther back are other similar aero-
dromes, not so deserted. Their wide spaces
are filled with throbbing engines. The ground
is ablaze with the flares of labouring-
mechanic squads. All day there has been
a stillness on their spacious enclosures. Only
at the time of sunset do they liven up. For
these are the aerodromes of the night-raiding
aeroplanes, which steal away in the dark-
ness to bomb enemy dumps and communica-
tions.

Great powerful machines stretch wing to
wing across the enclosure ; their parts speci-
ally constructed to neutralise the reflective
power of metals ; gleaming dully in the
light of the flares. Opposite the pilot's
seat in each 'plane, the instrument-board is

MOONLIGHT OVER THE BATTLE 213

illuminated by carefully screened electric
glow-lamps, and hardly a glimmer comes
above the cockpit even when all the higher
lights are shining, and though the pilot
can distinguish every pointing indicator as
it moves across the dials as clearly as by
the light of day.

The pilots appear from their quarters,
and stroll towards their machines. They
are heavily clad — much more heavily than
their fellows of the daylight. The night is
cold, and they have farther to go ; so they
take precautions. The chorus of the final
engine tuning-up greets them as they ap-
proach, and mechanics scramble out from
beneath wings and fuselages, leaving the
bomb-racks well filled and in order.

The pilots clamber into their places. The
engine hum becomes a roar, one by one the
machines start forward over the enclosure
and glide upwards into the night. Red
and white identification lights on each
wing-tip show for a little, a galaxy of new
stars; and then this last sigh of their
presence also disappears as the squadron
heads swiftly for the distant line.

Their course is as direct as a ruled line :

214 TAILS UP

over the trenches, with all their wavering
display of starshells, and on into the enemy's
country, where all manner of adventures
waylay their speeding feet. Long beams of
enemy searchlights stab the darkness, seek-
ing them among the upper shadows. Oc-
casionally finding a 'plane and dazzling
her pilot with their brilliant concentration.
Occasionally holding such feats of arms as :

Two British machines, convoying a raiding-
party, north of, and over St. J- — , en-
countered seven Hun fighting-scouts. Pilot
number one put down three of them with
just over two drums of ammunition ; his
companion immediately being attacked by
the other four. He brought down one, and
then, after pretending to escape, suddenly
executed a sharp " volte face " and attacked
a second machine, which was forced down.
At that moment a machine-gun bullet glanced
off the British captain's motor, and he was
forced to descend out of the fight. A big
German machine tried to bar his way, but
the discharge of 150 machine-gun bullets
quickly forced the monster to make a com-
pulsory descent to earth; and both British
craft flew back to rejoin their squadron.

MOONLIGHT OVER THE BATTLE 215

But, however glaring the searchlight may
be, the British pilot soon recovers. He
pulls back his control lever, and climbing
upwards, leaves the Archie clusters bursting
beneath him. Then, strange snakelike flashes
quiver and disappear over the horizon of the
sky.

These flashes — unwisely enough— indicate
the positions of the enemy aerodromes. They
are caused by the Huns firing a fixed number
of green balls, string-fashion, into the sky,
which — in addition to their aerial light-
houses— assist the raiders when returning to
their bases. From a height of 10,000 feet
those fired from the Belgian coast can
actually be seen by German machines high
over London, who then have only to steer
in the direction of these recurrent signals to
" hit " their coast at a known spot.

Leaving searchlights, green balls, and anti-
aircraft shells behind them, the British
squadron at last sights the faint glow of a
darkened German city far below, which
tells the pilots that the objective has been
reached.

Circling round to pick up their targets
the big 'planes look like gaunt night vam-

2i 6 TAILS UP

pires searching for their prey. A sudden
jerk of a pilot's hand and half a ton of bombs
go hurtling earthward. A large flash, a dull
boom, and then a steady glow. And far
away from the confusion and panic reigning
below in that stricken German town, the
great machines swing round in the vastness
of the heavens, and, amid a halo of bursting
shell, head for the line and home — the
record of the affair being set forth in the
next day's British Official somewhat after
the following manner :

" Following on the successful daylight raids
on the i8th inst., against Treves and Thion-
ville, our night-flying squadrons went out
after dark and again attacked these towns
from a low height with equally good results.
Five bursts were observed on Treves station,
which broke into flames. Three other build-
ings were alight when our machines left. In
the second raid on Thionville, bursts were
seen on the railway and in the gasworks.
A large fire was started which was visible
to the pilots attacking Treves. German air-
craft and anti-aircraft guns were very active
during both raids. One of our machines
failed to return/'

MOONLIGHT OVER THE BATTLE 217

Meanwhile, as these happenings are to-
ward, the enemy is also out scouring the
skies. Probably he is bombing London. The
stories of the thrilling fights which then
occur with British aircraft would fill a volume.
Here is one typical instance that occurred
late in the autumn of last year.

A Gotha was trapped by a British machine
over the centre of the city. Another Britisher
tacked into the fight, a moment later. The
searchlights caught and held them. In and
out, darting all over the place, twisting and
turning with bewildering speed, the British
aeroplanes looked like bringing down the
Hun any moment. It was the sight of a
lifetime for old London — common enough
maybe on the front, but a unique thrill over
the house-tops. More than once it seemed
that the Hun was surely vanquished. It
seemed so as the others shot out like a flash,
changed their tactics in a twinkling, wriggled,
squirmed, and tested their opponent in every
conceivable manner.

To see the race for higher levels — a race
to be top dog, in a double sense — was the
sort of thing that made you hold your breath.
To watch the British machines cut in and

218 TAILS UP

hurl their machine-gun charges at the single-
handed fighter made you want to cheer.

The German was a fighter — give him his
due. He responded in kind, so far as firing
went. He made a desperate struggle for
life ; the issue was in doubt, with the odds
decidedly against the enemy, up to the last
moment. Then, with a start, one of the
British machines was in at close quarters.
A little flicker of red flame burst out at the
nose of the Hun machine. The next moment
he was plunging headlong for earth. But
he fell wide, clear of the city.

And of another raiding Gotha which was
brought down in flames in the Isle of Thanet,
it is recounted by an infantry officer, who
went out to look for the crew, that the pilot
was discovered a quarter of an hour later,
wandering aimlessly across a field. He made
no attempt at resistance. He was too frozen
cold to think of such a thing. His face was
a greyish blue ; his fingers numbed and
lifeless ; almost unable to walk, he stumbled
across to the British officer, and pulled up
short.

Between his numbed lips was an unlighted
cigarette. He said never a word; merely

MOONLIGHT OVER THE BATTLE 219

indicating his " smoke" with a movement of
his hand ; followed by a pantomimic ex-
hibition of striking a match.

The Britisher hesitated ; looked hard at
him for a second or so, then, fumbling in his
pockets, produced the desired match and
lit his cigarette.

ACES AND PAWNS

431

CHAPTER XIV

ACES AND PAWNS

" ACE" is a war word and, moreover, one
peculiar to flying circles. " Champion,"
" star," " crack," call him what you will,
an " ace" is a pilot who has accounted to
his " bag " five or more enemy craft. He
is your knight-errant, genius, athletic god
in one. But unlike other athletic gods, his
prowess is not constituted solely of beef
and brawn. He may be — and in fact often
has been — delicate of physique, and lacking
in physical powers. Guynemer was a note-
worthy example. And he was the " ace of
aces."

Of the latter the belligerent Flying Services
have, so far, produced not more than seven.
On the British side there have been Ball,
Bishop, and McCudden. Boelke and von
Richthofen, the elder, were the German
stars. And France rejoiced in the inimitable

223

224 TAILS UP

Guynemer, with Nungesser a worthy suc-
cessor. James Byford McCudden's was the
most romantic career of any. He had won
every possible British decoration — the V.C.,
the D.S.O. (twice), the M.C., the M.M., and
possesses in addition the French Croix de
Guerre. A modest youth, with an attractive
personality, he typified the clean-built, sport-
ing Englishman, descended from a fighting
stock. For his father — a typical Irishman
— was a warrant officer in the Royal Engineers,
and his father's father and grandfather were
soldiers before him. His mother also was a
"••soldier" woman, with martial father and
grandfather before her. One brother — the
eldest of a trio — had already given his life
itt the service of the air. Another bids fair
to, some day, improve upon John Byford' s
record. And yet another, of sixteen years
of age, has already joined up with the R.F.C.
McCudden, who until recently was leader
of a squadron which has accounted for
ninety- nine Boche machines, was only twenty-
three. He joined the British Army as a
private in a regiment of the line, eight years
ago ; transferring to the Flying Corps in
1912, to the old balloon section. In the

ACES AND PAWNS 225

stress of the German rush through Belgium,
Air-Mechanic McCudden, having had some
experience in the air, was pressed into service
at Mons as an observer. For excellent
services there displayed, he was granted a
commission. And from that to his captaincy
was no long step.

While yet in the ranks he won renown for
his handling of the guns in several stiff
fights, and was awarded the Croix de Guerre
and the Military Medal. " For consistent
gallantry, courage, and dash during the month
of September 1916, in attacking and destroy-
ing an enemy machine, and forcing two
others to land/' was the official account of
the great deed. " He also twice crossed
the enemy lines at a very low altitude in
attacks on hostile balloons under very heavy
fire." And on another occasion he dived
down after a hostile machine to a height of
only 300 feet and drove it to the ground.

Over a hundred fights he waged against
Boche airmen. Three times he fought the
redoubtable Immelmann to a standstill ; and
on- every occasion the fight had to be broken
off owing to both men running out of am-
munition. He paid Immelmann the tribute

226 TAILS UP

of being " a great airman, and a gallant
fighter/ '

Another R.F.C. pilot once remarked of
him : " McCudden is one of the real geniuses
of aerial fighting. He has established enough
theories to fill a volume/' McCudden him-
self told me that his invariable method
was to dive for the enemy's tail. And in
this way he estimated that he had accounted
for no less than forty-seven of his " bag/'
He was more than enthusiastic about the
future. But, as he so characteristically re-
marked : " We must get on with the war,
before we can find time to think about any-
thing else."

Comparing his total with the " aces" of
either nations, we find that his name figures
second on the list. Here is the order of them :
von Richthof en (German) , 74 ; McCudden
(Britain), 57 ; Guynemer (France), 53 ; Bishop
(Britain) , 47 ; Fallard (Britain) , 42 ; Nun-
gesser (France), 31; and Fonck (France), 30.
Nungesser is the French " doyen de la
chasse." He is a veteran at the game, and
was France's leading battle pilot until Guy-
nemer appeared upon the scene.

The French have the most rigorous method

ACES AND PAWNS 227

of calculating successes. A Boche machine
is only "brought down" when it is seen to
crash to earth on this side of the French
lines. There is the keenest rivalry between
the French pilots for first place; and there
are several youngsters who are running
Nungesser close. The latter, by the way,
every time he crosses the lines seeks out some
vanquisher of a former comrade who has
fallen in the field of battle.

Last December the engine of Nungesser' s
machine failed when at a great height, and
the machine crashed to the ground. By a
miracle he escaped himself, but his mechanic
was killed outright. Badly shaken as he was,
yet he refused to take any leave in order not
to lose his proud position of " ace of the aces.1'

Fonck held him neck and neck, with
thirty apiece, until the end of January,
when the elder man encountered a German
Albatross in the neighbourhood of Berry-
au-Bac, and brought it down after a stiff
fight. Unfortunately, the third witness
necessary was not forthcoming, so Nungesser
was not credited. But on March ipth he
assured his position by bringing down a
fresh victim, near Craonne.

228 TAILS UP

Cavalry Captain von Richthofen was the
elder of two brothers ; both of them crack
battle pilots, and both with a goodly total of
Allied airmen to their credit. The Captain
had been at it for over fifteen months ;
having encountered at various times Guy-
nemer, Ball, and Hawker — an early British
crack — whom he sent down to his death.
In his book, published in 1917, von Rich-
thofen gives a graphic account of his many
fights — though, unfortunately, they are all
written in that bombastic, swaggering style
peculiar to the Boche. He does not mention
the fact in his book, but the German " ace "
reports his own victories, in which he in-
cludes captive-balloons. And he hunts al-
ways with a squadron.

So we have the " top-lines " in their order,
and in their ways. But it must not neces-
sarily be concluded that they make best part
of the air- war history ; many a startling
adventure and hair-breadth escape occur
to pilots outside that exclusive coterie. Air-
men of whom the world-at-large has never
heard — nor is ever likely to hear — are carry-
ing this most novel form of warfare into the
most outlandish districts, quietly and un-

ACES AND PAWNS 229

sung. And in these most out-of-the-way
spots the most out-of-the-way events befall.
Here is one of them :

Lieutenant G , with the British Air

Forces in East Africa, gives in a letter to
Flight a piquant narrative of the perils of
an aviator flying over those vast tropic
wastes. He writes :

" Once when he went out to bomb a German
ambush on the Rufiji River, and engine
trouble landed him in a bog with a broken
propeller, it took him four days to make his
way to a place of safety through the bush
infested with wild animals. In the dusk he
was confronted with an ugly black animal
about four feet high, with vicious tusks. He
climbed a tree and prepared to put in the
night there. Later he opened his eyes and
saw something like two green electric bulbs
about thirty feet from the tree. They moved
round it in a circle. This continued for
forty-five minutes.

" The tension was unbearable. I wanted
to scream, shout, and yell all in one, but
instead I burst out with 'The Admirars
Broom/ and with a full-throated bass I
roared out the three verses. No applause,

230 TAILS UP

but a reward — the leopard slunk away.
Why had I not thought of it before ?

" I went through my repertoire. I laughed
as I finished ' Two Eyes of Grey/ It seemed
so ridiculous. Then I got on to hymns,
remembered four verses of ' O God, our help
in ages past/ and sang the ' Amen' too.
The whole thing had its ludicrous side."

Next morning whilst swimming a river
he passed seven yards from a crocodile's
mouth, but just reached the bank in time.
Without food or arms — his only weapon
of defence his nail scissors — his progress
through the awful bush was about 100 yards
an hour. His clothing was in ribbons, and
his flesh exposed to the thorns, sword grass,
and flies.

He swam seven more rivers that day
and sank down exhausted under a green
tree. He could hear a lion roaring about 500
yards way, and somewhat nearer the grunt-
ing of a hippopotamus.

" Being exhausted I more or less lost
consciousness for perhaps half an hour or
so. Nothing short of a hippo charging could
have made me climb a tree. Am afraid
life had little to offer about that time."

ACES AND PAWNS 231

Whilst lying here Lieutenant Garrood
" had the annoying experience of surveying
two large baboons, the size of a small
man, quarrelling over his trousers, now in
threads, and among the tops of forty-foot
trees. "

It was not until he had passed another
horrible day and equally terrible night in
the bush that he at last was picked up by
some natives. " Their eyes seldom left me/'
he adds. ' Undoubtedly I was a strange
sight — my legs bare and bleeding, my short
vest sodden, dirty, and torn, no trousers of
course, just a dirty sun helmet, a short
stick in my right hand, and with four days'
growth of beard on my dirty face/'

Another youthful veteran, attacked by a
fighting formation of Boches, fired into one
machine, which turned over on its back and
spun down out of control. Then he turned
his attention to another, and fired 200 rounds
into it. Suddenly it went into a spin and
crashed. Out with a battle flight of our
own the following day, he spun lower and
fired, and added a further Hun to his bag.
Then, to make full measure that day, he fired
an observation balloon; and in the after-

232 TAILS UP

noon, finished the aggregate at four enemy
aeroplanes and a balloon in three days.

On another occasion two British machines,
photography bound, ran up against half a
dozen of the enemy's. Strictly speaking, theirs
was a noncombatant craft, but, annoyed at
the interruption, they laid about the enemy
with their machine-gun to such effect that
in a very short time they had knocked out
two of their attackers. The remainder then
flew away ; and they returned to their
picture-making, in peace.

Recently our bombers achieved a direct
hit on a German Army kinema with results
which, according to a prisoner's story, were,
as one would expect, disastrous. Immedi-
ately, the unspeakable Boche retaliated by
bombing our hospitals and stretcher-bearers
behind the lines.

But vengeance was swift and immediate,
winged on the planes of a British battle-plane.
The pilot shot down the largest machine
of the party, and turned, at bay, to meet
the remainder. Like an avalanche, they
hurled themselves at his head. He ap-
peared to be totally inactive. Nearer and
nearer they drove — until, when they were

ACES AND PAWNS 233

almost on top of him, he made a neat, clean
loop over them ; to the tune of two further
casualties.

Sometimes these " stunts " find their way
into The London Gazette ; the narrative form
is hardly what one would style heart-stirring.
But judge for yourself ; this :

" While flying over the enemy's lines he
was attacked by twelve hostile scouts and
engaged four of them, one of which he
destroyed. He was then attacked by another
of the enemy machines, and, though his
observer had been wounded, he succeeded
in destroying it. His machine was then
rendered amost uncontrollable by a shell,
the right wing being almost shot off, but
he succeeded in landing it in our front-line
wire. He has destroyed five hostile machines
and shown splendid courage and deter-
mination/'

Or this :

" He took part in many successful opera-
tions over the enemy's lines, in over twenty
of which he acted as leader. On one occasion,
when leading a bombing raid, his formation
was heavily attacked by enemy aeroplanes.
He shot one of them down, and brought back

234 TAILS UP

the whole of his formation safely. He also
led a successful raid on an enemy aerodrome,
and on several occasions obtained valuable
photographs. He has accounted for two
enemy aeroplanes with his front gun, and
always showed great coolness, ability, and

resource/'

It is when the boys write themselves that
one gets nearer to the spirit of the thing.
Compare, for instance, the two latter state-
ments with this extract from the letter from
an unofficial " ace/' somewhere in France :

" I saw a fine thing between Templeaux
and Peronne. The Germans were smashing
on. Our squadron was returning to our
base ' empty.' There was very hot stuff
being pumped at us. We could see miles of
Huns, our shells bursting everywhere among
them.

" Suddenly one of our scouts was winged.
He dropped like a crippled pigeon at a
tremendous pace, and crashed horribly. At
once another chap swooped, landed, picked
him up, swung his blades, jumped in, took
' her ' off, and put his tail up to our lines.
It was all the work of a minute, and one of
the pluckiest things I've seen this week.

ACES AND PAWNS 235

"The chap was dead/'

Again ; another extract from another
letter :

" On Tuesday morning I saw a pretty bit
of work.

"Fully 25,000 Germans were advancing
below — under our very eyes, 10,000 feet
above — when from the direction of Chauny
there swung round seven French fighting
squadrons — 105 machines — glinting in the
sun.

" They manoeuvred beautifully. Fancy,
Jim ! a hundred 'planes in a vertical turn at
once ! They sprang a lovely E-flat note,
and 50,000 German ears heard it.

"It was laughable and tragic.

" Down swooped the Frenchmen with a
whiz. They spread fanwise. A mighty cres-
cent of loo-lb. bombs fell, then another,
then small stuff. Hundreds upon hundreds
were killed.

" I saw 5,000 men flat on their faces at
once hoping to escape. It was just awful."

There is heroism unexampled in those few
lines, and — a greater thing — a soldier's praise,
as only a soldier can give it, in an unadorned
recital of plain fact. There is the quick

236 TAILS UP

roving eye of the airman that covers the
half of a battlefield in a twinkling of time,
and misses not the smallest detail ; there
is the lusty j oy of youth in his nerve-racking
occupation ; and there is the j oy of the
enthusiast in the execution of it.

This joy and the whole-hearted defiance
of danger once prompted a youthful British
airman, who landed one day in the arid
wastes of Sinai through a hail of shrapnel,
beside a hard-pressed, dust-grimed infantry
column, to carry off a mortally wounded
man to the nearest hospital — forty-four miles
away across the desert — and by his prompt
action saved a life ; and also it was responsible
for the doughty deeds of four merry men
recently recounted by A. A. M. in Punch.
He says that :

" ' A ' found an aerodrome and sprayed
the machines with bullets. ' B ' got under
a German machine at 300 feet, and fired
into his engine. ' B ' peppered him down
to 100 feet, where ' B's ' gun jammed. ' A/
having finished with his aerodrome, took
over the German and saw him down safely
to the ground, where he crashed, both wings
folding up."

ACES AND PAWNS 237

"C" says he saw him "cartwheeled on
his back/' " A " then sprayed bullets along
a train, while " B " sprayed Boches who
were playing football. " B " also attended
to a single-horse transport and three groups
of Boches. " C" came back low along the
roads shooting at ground targets. And
" A. -A." gunfire was " severe on homeward
flight."

But all these deeds fade into insignificance
when compared with the one that gained
for Squadron Commander Moon a champion-
ship of the Distinguished Service Order.
The story of it is :

" On January 6th, 1917, whilst on a recon-
naissance flight over the Rufiji Delta with
Commander the Hon. R. O. B. Bridgeman,
D.S.O., R.N., as observer, he was obliged
by engine trouble to descend in one of the
creeks, where it became necessary to destroy
the seaplane to avoid the possibility of its
being captured. For three whole days the
two officers wandered about the delta in
their efforts to avoid capture and to rejoin
their ship. During this time they had little
or nothing to eat, and were continually
obliged to swim across the creeks, the bush

238 TAILS UP

on the banks being impenetrable. On the
morning of January 7th they constructed
a raft of three spars and some latticed window
frames. After paddling and drifting on this
for the whole of January 7th and 8th, they
were finally carried out to sea on the morning
of the Qth, when Commander Bridgeman,
who was not a strong swimmer, died of
exhaustion and exposure. In the late after-
noon Flight Commander Moon managed to
reach the shore, and was taken prisoner by
the Germans; but was eventually released
from captivity on November 2ist, 1917."

MARVELS OF THE AIR

239

CHAPTER XV

MARVELS OF THE AIR

MORE wonderful adventures bechance in the
air than were ever thought of on land or
at sea. They happen at all altitudes — among
the clouds, a few hundred feet above the
ground, over the sea, and over the roof-tops ;
and at all hours of the day and night. One
second Death lays the air pilot by the heels,
the next he is flying clear in the heavens.
For instance, imagine the sensations ex-
perienced by a British pilot engaging an
enemy machine for over twenty minutes, to
find that only her inherent stability carried
her on — her pilot was dead, shot through
the heart.

What everyday event can compare with
that of another flyer, who was shot through
the arm by an " Archie " fragment at 8,000
feet. N He lost consciousness. When he came
to again it was to find himself lying in a
16 241

242 TAILS UP

hospital bed. The machine had flown -her-
self across the British lines, and landed in a
meadow. Aeroplanes have been employed
frequently as Red Cross ambulances. Badly
wounded men have been carried from behind
the lines to the base hospitals in record time.
An airman who was badly injured in a false
landing outside a town on the north-east
coast was attended by a doctor who arrived
in another 'plane. And, not long ago, an
urgently needed set of medical instruments
was dispatched by aeroplane from London
to Dunkirk in three hours.

The representative of a well-known air-
craft company, with establishments in London
and Paris, frequently makes business trips
from one city to the other by way of the
air, and usually accomplishes the return
journey between early morning and sunset:
a record which has been capped by the
performance of a " ferry " pilot — taking new
machines to, and bringing old machines
from, the British Army in France. One
summer morning he flew to France and
back between breakfast and lunch, had tea
in an aerodrome behind the lines, and ended
the perfect day by dining at a depot within

MARVELS OF THE AIR 243

thirty miles of London. Some feats are
even more striking.

There is the possibility of fire. On the
comparative safety of land, fire is alarming
enough. In the air its terrors are manifold.
A pilot is cooped up like a rat in a cage. He
cannot dive for the earth — the downward
rush would fan up the flames. He cannot
take refuge in an inaccessible part of the
machine — because there are none. He must
sit tight, and hope for the best. Upon one
occasion, certainly, an airman did succeed
in diving his flaming machine into the sea ;
but it was by little short of a miracle, and
with an after-experience he would not care
to repeat. Flying from France to England
with a mechanic, six miles from shore the
engine of the aeroplane burst into flames.
They were at an altitude of over 2,000 feet,
but he did not hesitate. The faster they
dived, the fiercer grew the flames, the thicker
the smoke. Only just in time they plunged
into the water.

The 'plane submerged, with the exception
of the tip of a wing, and on this they took
refuge. Two British destroyers had sighted
their descent from a distance. But, just

244 TAILS UP

then, a mist blew up. For over an hour
the airmen had to wait before being taken
off, the machine sinking almost immediately
after. Only by his prompt action did the
pilot save both their lives.

Promptness is the first essential in flying.
Almost out of sight, an aeroplane appears
to crawl along the sky-bed. Whereas, in
reality, it may be flying at 150 miles an hour.
Everything moves in proportion. The mind
of the pilot works in tens and scores of miles.
His altitude may be varied several thousand
feet in a few seconds, by a single touch of
the control-stick. He travels twice as fast
as any other human being on land or sea.
The latter is similar to the air ; but, where
it is simple and natural to float in a boat,
the aviator is, all the while, forcing the
hand of Nature. A grim, protracted struggle
with the elements includes the possibility
of death by cloud, storm, or "bump"
patch of thin air. Pilots often emerge from
clouds unconsciously flying upside down.
An observer, sitting two feet in front of the
pilot, has had a bullet through his heart,
and the latter made his base untouched.

Three times during the war airmen have

MARVELS OF THE AIR 245

deliberately driven their machines at an
enemy, and hurled down to death, the two
locked in flames. An R.A.F. officer, late
one afternoon, observed a German " Alba-
tross" swooping low over the British lines,
under pretence of dropping a friendly note.
Below his fuselage the Britisher caught
sight of a camera. He shot him down
without hesitation. Aeroplanes have been
employed frequently for landing spies inside
hostile areas. There was an instance of a
young British naval officer circling over a
certain fortified area in the South of England,
who discovered a man, hidden by a clump
of bushes, sketching the harbour from the
lee of a hill. He dived for him. But the
German spy heard the roar of his engine,
and ran off. The airman chased him, and
swooping low, shot him down with his
machine-gun.

It must be admitted that the German
airmen have proved themselves to be as
cunning and resourceful as any of their
compatriots on the ground. Their finest
coup was a recent raid on Paris. In the
French capital there is established a series
of listening posts, that will detect any air-

246 TAILS UP

craft within ten miles. Aware of this fact,
a Hun pilot evolved a brilliant strategy.
He hovered over the clouds, on the enemy
side of the lines, until a French bombing
squadron appeared below. He followed it
—still out of sight — while they bombed a
German ammunition dump ; turned south
with them, and crossed the lines in their
wake.

In order that the noise of his engine should
be confounded with that of the French
machines, he closed in as near as possible.
When the latter sloped down for their aero-
drome, the listening posts immediately picked
him up. But it was then too late to give
warning; and he dashed in over the city,
bombing heavily.

Warned by this occurrence, the French
took precautions. When the next German
squadron arrived over Paris on a night raid,
they had the most alarming experience.
As one of the pilots participating afterwards
wrote in the Lokal-Anzeiger :

"Suddenly the French put 'lanterns' in
our way. Above and beneath us, ahead
and astern, they hung quietly in the air,
and with their blinding glare lighted up our

MARVELS OF THE AIR 247

'planes. They are rockets with parachutes
provided with very brightly burning fuses.
Some special mechanism enables them to
remain steady for a full minute in the air.
Sometimes dozens together appeared near
us to show our machines to the anti-aircraft
guns."

The French have rendered finer service
to the air than any other nation. They were
the first to foster and encourage flying in
the early days. Their Air Service is the
best organised and equipped of any belli-
gerent. And only when the history of the
war comes to be written will the world
realise its great debt to Guynemer, Fonck,
and their gallant comrades. Here is an
instance of the manner in which the French
airmen held the fate of Europe for one long,
terrible night.

It was about the time of the second battle
of St. Quentin. The British Fifth Army had
gone down before the overwhelming masses of
German troops. The latter, by means of
rapid and well-organised rail and motor
transport, was driving on before the French
reserves had time to come up. Behind Arras
the enemy had concentrated over a score of

248 TAILS UP

" storm " divisions. The country-side was
black with troops. The roads were choked
with innumerable gun-limbers and ammuni-
tion-wagons. Night and day troop-trains
puffed up behind the lines ; disgorging their
cargoes of reinforcements, and puffing away
again for more. The fate of Paris hung in
the balance.

Then General Petain took action. " Order
every flying commander within striking dis-
tance of Ham/' he told his Chief-of-Staff,
" to send up, immediately, every squadron
at his disposal — whether fighting or bombing,
and concentrate on the German reserves
and lines." Immediately the order was
flashed up and down the lines to the French
aerodromes. Within half an hour the air was
black with machines, all heading for Ham.

All that evening, and through the night
that followed, the French airmen swept low
over the German masses, bombing and
machine-gunning. In seemingly never-end-
ing train, squadron after squadron flew up,
loosed off their bombs, used up their am-
munition ; then returned to their bases
for more. The effect was indescribable. The
Huns must have been shot down by thou-

MARVELS OF THE AIR 249

sands that night. Booming explosions and
columns of flame stabbed the darkness as
the ammunition parks went up. The busi-
ness of bringing up the reserves was abandoned
in despair. By the dawn the whole German
Army was in state of mad panic. Over two
divisions had been put out of action, and
their great opportunity lost irretrievably.

This incident must awake even in the most
sceptical mind visions of the possibility of
aircraft in the future. Those visions will
yet be realised when conservative humanity
overcomes its hatred of innovation. But,
meanwhile, incidental daily events pass un-
chronicled ; events that only go to prove that
when man attempted the conquest of the
air, he — like Atlas — was taking on some-
thing far greater than the exploration of a
few continents, or the mastery of five oceans.
His unquenchable spirit will always supply
the ways ; his fertile brain, the means.
But he can never wholly overcome the
gigantic forces of Nature battling against
him.

And even Nature must have turned
humorous when she permitted two human
beings to fly through the air for over two

250 TAILS UP

hours ; both of them dead. That is the fact,
and this the story. On a clear summer's
day three German two-seaters put to air in
fighting formation, and chanced upon a
solitary British 'plane. Confident in their
strength they attacked simultaneously ; which
was a bad mistake — or this story might
never have been told.

The R.A.F. man was quick to profit.
Looping sharply overhead, he came down
on the back of the rightmost machine — his
left — and plugged her. She staggered and
dropped from the fight. Her companions
waited for no more ; but turned for home.
The Englishman chased them, firing short
bursts from his machine-gun. As he caught
sight of the other machine, now 1,000 feet
below — at about 5,000 feet over the earth-
he thought to finish her off, there and then,
and dived for the pilot's back, reserving his
fire until within 100 yards. He did so.

When the tray of ammunition had blazed
off, the German was still flying as serene as
ever. He essayed another burst; but still
she flew on a level keel. Again he fired ;
again without result. Then he brought his
machine almost within speaking distance,

MARVELS OF THE AIR 251

and literally riddled the Hun with bullets.
For all his pains, she still swept on, in a
circular course, heading for the south.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he
followed her close-in for, maybe, half an
hour. All the time he fired bursts continu-
ally, until his ammunition ran out. By
this time they had been at it for over an
hour. But the Britisher held on, determined
to see the matter through. Twice they swept
across the lines in wide, right-hand circles,
averaging over sixty miles apiece. Until,
eventually, the stranger machine volplaned
down into a field behind the British lines.
Both German pilot and observer were dead ;
killed — unmistakably — by machine-gun bul-
lets. The aeroplane had continued her
volition, for almost 200 miles, by inherent
stability.

ARMAGEDDON FROM THE SKIES

253

CHAPTER XVI

ARMAGEDDON FROM THE SKIES

AN unnamable hero of the British Flying
services, bound on " contact patrol/' and
flying perilously low over the seething battle-
field, late one Thursday afternoon, witnessed
a sight permitted to few mortal eyes.
Whether he appreciated his experience we
shall never know. His machine was brought
crashing down to earth, and himself killed
by an enemy machine-gun before the next
day's sunset. His narrative, however, will
be handed down to history. He was flying
somewhere north-west of St. Quentin. Here
is the extract from the letter :

" Since an early hour in the afternoon,
rolling clouds of picric smoke smothered the
surface of the earth, almost obscuring it
from reconnaissance. The effect was most
startling. At one moment, the mirage would
roll back like a coverlet ; the stretch of

255

256 TAILS UP

road and railway, village and field below,
would be almost bare of movement. At
another, through a rift could be caught a
fleeting glimpse of indescribable masses of
grey, which at first against the greyer shadow
of the earth would appear motionless, then
develop animation at numerous points ; a
great human snake that writhed this way
and that, endeavouring to free itself from
its own voluminous coils. I dived lower, and
rapidly fired off a tray and a half of cart-
ridges from my machine-gun, encountering
little or no defensive fire, and certainly
causing casualties.

" A broad, straight highway, running
directly north and south, indicated Le V— — ,
where a great mass of British infantry—
the Umpth Division — was lying. Gradually,
very gradually, it was dwindling away in
long, ceaseless tendrils from the main body,
to a more expansive mass in the rear-ground.
Tiny shoots of flame stabbed the smoke
cloud from all directions. It was denser
here, and difficult to distinguish friend from
foe. . . . The hurl and shock and recoil of
the* infantry battle were here plainly visible.
... By this time, I had run out of ammuni-

ARMAGEDDON FROM THE SKIES 257

tion. So I flew off westward, through the
smoke, to the clearer atmosphere beyond,
leaving the charred, smouldering carnage of
what had once been a pleasant countryside
of rolling meadows and woodlands behind
me with a feeling of repugnance/'

For almost a fortnight British and German
aeroplanes had been disputing the airway
over the theatre of future operations. Sir
Douglas Haig by March I4th had received
information of the coming Push from the
Intelligence branch of the Flying Corps ;
to whom a reconnaissance patrol pilot had
reported that " the enemy were carrying
out intensive training with tanks, sixty
miles behind their lines/' Other reports
spoke of congestion on roads and railways,
particularly in the Courtrai, Lille, Douai,
Valenciennes, Mons, Cambrai, and Hirson
districts. And it was common knowledge
that the enemy had carried through a great
lay-out of railway track in the region of
the Meuse, shortening by fifty miles all
communication between the internal in-
dustrial centres and the dumps and supply
bases immediately in rear of the firing line.

The aerial fighting which immediately pre-

258 TAILS UP

ceded the battle was the fiercest in history.
Day after day, huge British bombing 'planes
flew over Mannheim, and other large military
centres and railway junctions; blowing up
railway sidings, aeroplane sheds, and munition
dumps, from low altitudes. From the first
tinge of dawn to the last moment of twilight,
photography, reconnaissance, and artillery-
directing aeroplanes were hovering over their
lines. All through the day and far into
the night, at higher altitudes above the
racing clouds, British and German machines
met in Homeric combat, endeavouring to
gain the mastery in that particular sector.

Then came the first actual raid of the
battle. On the fifteenth, R.F.C. pilots
bombed the railway sidings at Hirson, which
were congested with troop and ammunition
trains waiting to proceed to the battle,
causing considerable damage to rolling stock
and permanent way. And, ten hours later,
under cover of the darkness, the barracks,
munition factories, and the railway station
of Zweibrucken were subjected to a destruc-
tive bombing.

From that time until the dawn of the
eighteenth, aerial activity continued with-

ARMAGEDDON FROM THE SKIES 259

out cessation. A large concentration of Ger-
man infantry, waiting at Kaiserlautern
before being flung into the battle line, were
literally mown down with bombs and
machine-gun fire. In one single night raid
a further sixty tons of bombs were dropped
on two German aerodromes, which were the
bases for the German night-flying machines.
Then, on the nineteenth, came an ominous
lull ; due to rain and clouds, which continued
until late into the evening of the twentieth.
During this period, however, an extensive
bomb raid was carried out on a large shell
depot north-east of St. Quentin, which only
that morning — according to an Allied spy,
who had been dropped three days before in
the German lines, and picked up after twilight
of the twentieth — had been stocked roof
high with shells for the coming battle.

By this time all that was humanly possible
had been done to meet the coming offensive.
The British Army and the Flying Corps in
particular were ready at every point, and
awaited the event with calm deliberation.
Those who could read between the lines of
the official communiques realised that the
long-advertised Push was imminent. With

260 TAILS UP

Thursday's renewed and desperate aerial
activity, this realisation waxed a certainty.
Away up in the North Sea, in the Bight of
Heligoland, British seaplanes were patrolling
constantly, watching for any attempt on
the enemy's side of a concerted movement
on the part of his fleet.

The mist of Thursday morning cleared
towards midday, but only in certain locali-
ties. In most places the light was only suit-
able for low flying. Nevertheless the British
airmen succeeded in locating great bodies of
enemy reinforcements, and pouring many
thousands of rounds into them, causing
innumerable casualties. At first the anti-
aircraft defences were unusually violent.
Then the Germans, apparently with the idea
that any further attempt at concealment
was useless, ceased fire, or kept up only a
pretence. The bombing machines dropped
no fewer than 900 bombs on railway stations
immediately behind the lines, causing the
enemy reinforcements and supplies of am-
munition a delay of at least twelve hours.

Even at the low altitude at which flying-
was possible on this day, the air fighting
was tremendous. Sixteen Hun aeroplanes

ARMAGEDDON FROM THE SKIES 261

were brought down, and six driven down.
One of these was flying so low as to be shot
down by British infantry within their own
lines. Bombs were dropped on further large
bodies of German reinforcements, rather to
the north-west of Tournai. And here for
the next twenty-four hours — and many
twenty-four afterwards — all aerial activity
was centred.

Came the night before the battle. At
sundown, clouds and mist hung low over
the face of the sky. Behind the mist, be-
neath the low clouds, a few miles to the
west was the incessant jog- jog-jog of armed
men ; on high roads, and by-roads, across
the fields, and by the railway tracks. But the
Flying Corps missed nothing of all these
preparations. Whenever there came a break,
a reconnaissance machine would go speeding
westwards. An hour later the pilot would
return, the observer with a bulky report.
From another aerodrome, farther down the
line, other machines would go out, and other
machines return with fresh enemy disposi-
tions, fresh enemy ammunition dumps, fresh
enemy gun positions ; here a concentration
of tanks, there a railway being run up to

262 TAILS UP

the trenches. The fight was grim and merci-
less, from the moment they left the ground
until they came winging home again, with
perhaps a broken strut, or a wing barely
hinging on the supports, and sometimes
with the pilot or the observer mortally
wounded. The enemy were determined they
should not gain information. They were
out to get it at all costs. The Staff alone
knew the result of this long unequal combat ;
and they benefited thereby, to a very con-
siderable degree. As observer after observer
handed in fresh returns, the wires got busy
behind the British lines, half-way across
the North of France, calling for reinforce-
ments from all parts.

Through the long night of waiting, and
in the teeth of the storm and gales, every
available night-flying squadron in the battle
area was turned out into the skies. Haig
himself reports that " our bombing squadrons
dropped 300 bombs alone on a hostile aero-
drome south-west of Tournai, used by the
enemy's night-flying squadrons, and also on
a large ammunition depot north-east of St.
Quentin."

At the dawn, with the mist still hanging

ARMAGEDDON FROM THE SKIES 263

over the surface of the ground — almost like
a sea fog, before the pallid grey light broke
through the faint glimmer of the sinking
moon — the R.F.C. had carried out a score
and one reconnaissances. They had seen
the great masses waiting, grimly silent, behind
the enemy trenches ; they had seen the
gleaming muzzles of the giant howitzers
and smaller field guns in every hole and
corner. The story of their report sheets,
when — and if ever — it is written, will beggar
credulity. Towards the dawn a terrific
artillery bombardment opened by the enemy's
guns. Shortly after a pilot landed at an
aerodrome behind the British positions—
barely beyond shellfire ; frightened, white
countenanced, but yet unafraid, he managed
to blurt out : " There are thousands of them
-thousands ! The whole countryside is alive
with advancing infantry/' Then they came
racing across the devastated patch of No
Man's Land.

From all corners of the heavens, British
airmen came swooping down on to them
like avenging angels, firing and bombing
as they dived. But the Germans appeared
to ignore them. Men fell on all sides. Still

264 TAILS UP

they marched on. No power on earth could
have stopped that living tide ! Back went
the airmen for more ammunition. Down
they swooped through the mist again. Still
the enemy came marching on. Shattered
for all time was the theory that aircraft
would be the deciding factor in modern war.
But they demonstrated most admirably that
they could hold up reinforcements until
either the enemy rushed up a battery of
machine guns, or the 'plane fell to earth,
a shattered wreck.

When the enemy endeavoured to snatch
a brief rest that night, they were at them
again, bombing and killing. Three and a
half tons of bombs they dropped on villages
and camps to the north-west of Tournai.

This, however, gave the Hun his cue. At
daybreak the following morning, his aero-
planes swooped up from all sides — the low-
flying machines being particularly active,
engaging our forward troops with their
machine-guns. The only fault to find with
our own pilots was perhaps that they did
not take the affair with the due seriousness
which it warranted. But that is not the
English spirit. They go languidly to their

ARMAGEDDON FROM THE SKIES 265

pleasures, laughingly to their deaths. They
were not languid this morning.

Between Arras and St. Quentin the main
aerial combat raged. The mastery of the
battle area fluctuated ; now to one side, now
to the other. Eventually the British had
it. Day for day, night for night, these
conditions were repeated, until at last the
Allied Army stood firm and unshakable
behind the line of the old Somme battle-
field. The adventures of the airmen, mean-
while, ran through the gamut of the emotions.
One night the low-flying pilots came home
and reported that the ground immediately
behind the enemy advance was strewn for
miles with grey corpses. Another afternoon
a reconnaissance pilot — plaintively enough —
described having seen a great army of Huns,
all plunging into the battle in brand-new
uniforms. As one of them commented :
" Imagine they are going to dine in Paris
to-night !"

At low altitudes the German airmen
appeared to adapt their reconnaissance to
the policy of peep and run. Immediately
the skyline showed clear, they would come
flying over. Then a British machine ap-

266 TAILS UP

peared, and they turned for home as fast
as they could go. But, up high, a bombing
squadron sped away, destined for Paris.
The French, however, were prepared for
them, and, after a desultory attempt, they
dropped their bombs on Compiegne, and
returned again.

Saturday the 23rd was remarkable for
the bombardment of Paris by the — now
famous — German heavy gun. Hostile aero-
planes over the city in the early morning
hours heralded the commencement of this
manoeuvre. At first they were thought to
be bomb raiders. But as they kept to a
very great altitude, and circled continually
without dropping any bombs, it soon became
obvious that their intention was to direct
the gunfire. Back at the firing lines, Haig
reported :

" Many thousands of rounds fired from a
low height on hostile troops massed in villages
and in the open. Bombing carried out con-
tinuously all the day. Over fourteen tons
of bombs dropped on enemy's billets, high-
velocity guns — which presumably included
the Paris gun — and stations in battle

area."

ARMAGEDDON FROM THE SKIES 267

Later the same day it was reported :

" Our machines carried out another most
successful raid on factories at Mannheim.
Nearly a ton and a half of bombs was
dropped and bursts were seen on the (Badische)
soda factory (great chemical works) and
railway and on the docks. Several fires
were started, one of which was of great size,
with flames reaching to a height of 200 feet
and smoke to 5,000 feet. Fire visible for
thirty-five miles.' '

Another day over 1,700 tons of bombs
were dropped on varying targets, which
included enemy docks, stations, camps, high-
velocity guns and reinforcements. This day
was notable as being the heaviest in the
course of the whole battle. Forty-five Ger-
man aeroplanes were brought down, and
twenty-two driven down out of control.
After this enemy craft were conspicuous by
their absence for miles around ; whereas
British machines came flocking over the
battlefield in ever-increasing numbers.

" A total of twenty- two tons of bombs
were dropped by us, and over 100,000 rounds
were fired from machine-guns/' was the
welcome news contained in the following

268 TAILS UP

day's Official; on receipt of which the Air
Board dispatched the following telegram
to General S almond, the young commander
of the Flying Corps in the field : " The Air
Council congratulate you and all ranks of the
R.N.A.S., R.F.C., and Australian Flying
Corps on the splendid work carried out
during this great battle. We are all follow-
ing their great deeds, and know that they
will keep it going/ ' And to which he returned
his famous message : " Very many thanks
for Air Council's congratulations, which are
much appreciated by all concerned. All
ranks have their tails well up, and the
superiority of British over enemy airmen
has never been more marked/'

On the 26th the enemy issued his resume
of aerial fighting for the whole battle :

" Since the beginning of the battle ninety-
three enemy aeroplanes and six captive
balloons have been brought down. Cavalry
Captain Baron von Richthofen achieved his
67th and 68th aerial victories/'

Comparing this with Haig's daily reports,
it shows a considerable advantage on our
side. Thus in five days, March 2ist~25th
inclusive :

ARMAGEDDON FROM THE SKIES 269

German aeroplanes destroyed

or captured . . . 137

Driven down out of control . 83

Balloons destroyed . . __3

Total 223

As an appreciation of this unequalled
performance, King George sent the following
telegram to Sir Douglas Haig :

" I wish to express to General S almond and
all ranks of the Air Services of the British
Empire in France my gratification at their
splendid achievements during this great battle.
I am proud to be their Colonel-in~Chief."

Thus ends the first chapter of the Flying
Services as an army of combat. What they
proved capable of in those few strenuous
days will alter materially all military theories
of strategy and tactics of the future. In that
period they put up many fine achievements,
but none finer than that reported by Renter's
special correspondent on the 27th. Thus :

" Two entire German divisions advancing
towards the battle front were almost com-
pletely annihilated, before they were able
to fire a single shot, by machine-gun fire and
bombs from about a hundred French aero-
planes."

THE AERIAL DUEL— AND AERIAL
DUELLISTS

271

CHAPTER XVII

THE AERIAL DUEL — AND AERIAL DUELLISTS

" GOOD duellist, bad soldier/' asserted the
great Napoleon. But he was wrong. The
aerial duellists of the twentieth century,
Ball and Bishop, Guynemer, McCudden, and
Richthofen, were to give the lie to his asser-
tion. The " Iron Duke/' who hammered
him at Waterloo, knew better. " A little
duelling now and then doesn't hurt the
Hussars/' he said, when consulted by the
Prince Regent about punishments. He had
been out himself.

Caesar's legions regarded with contempt
the German judicial belayings, in Teutonic
forests, 2,000 years ago. An Italian noble-
woman, a century later, complained of the
call of a gentleman, after hours, as a blazing
indiscretion. They put a sword into his
hand, and set a bravo on to him. He did
not survive, to benefit by the confession of
18 273

274 TAILS UP

that rascally sneak who had imposed upon
the lady. Duelling was unfashionable in
that particular city for years afterward.
Boulanger was foolish enough to get him-
self pinked by an ordinary fellow, thus
losing his chance of becoming another Na-
poleon. In his brilliant comedy, The Rivals,
Sheridan made duelling a matter of festive
sport ; while, only last year, Sir Douglas
Haig dispatched to Britain's greatest aerial
duellist a personal note, " Well done. D. H."
In 1600 it was plainly ridiculous; in
igoo-odd it seems almost knightly. Many
a fine fellow has been sent by kings and
cardinals to the gibbet because of it. Popes
have levelled the terrors of hell against it.
Court-martialled and cashiered, good officers
have ended in the gutter because they would
play at it. Since the days of Louis XIV
civilisation has labelled it murder. Only
laughter could exterminate the wager of
battle. Modern conditions, modern neces-
sities have mocked at laughter. Duelling
has again become an honourable and heroic
thing in the eyes of men. These Homeric
combats of the English or the French against
the Germans, in the highway of the air,

THE AERIAL DUEL 275

are not styled duels ; but nevertheless that
is what they are.

The aerial combat grips the imagination
with a force that no other sensation can pro-
vide. It is the gauntlet of man's progressive-
ness flung into the face of the elements.
Two miles aloft, barely distinguishable against
the glare of the sky and the enveloping mists
of the clouds, there creep up two waspish,
attenuated shapes — apparently from the ends
of the horizon. A sudden burst of sunshine
finds them as they wheel into the fight. It
plays along the glistening wings, radiating
from a thousand different points ; now at
the burnished engine fittings at the nose,
now the struts of the wings apparent against
the blue. One is above, and a little behind.
He streaks for his opponent's tail. So near,
that from the ground it appears inevitable
they must collide, and crash, helplessly
wrecked, to the earth. Gradually the two
forms dissemble themselves, and again spring
into action ; wheeling, tumbling, with de-
lightful recklessness, skimming each other,
by inches, at a break-neck speed, twisting,
climbing, diving, up and down every chord
of the heavens.

276 TAILS UP

To the infantry and gunners watching
anxiously below, it is the grandest spectacle
of the war. They envy the daring airmen
with all their hearts. To them the affair
possesses a curiously personal aspect. It is
their fight. There, in their trenches, and
behind their guns, they experience every
dive and twist, and turn, with a vividness
that is remarkable. And when at last one
or the other makes his last dip down that
tortuous stair of flight, a tense expectancy
prevails — until either the black crosses
or the circles of red, white, and blue become
visible on the vanquished craft. If it is
the one, the air is rent with deep-throated
cheers ; if the other, a murmur goes down
the line of British trenches like the moan
of the wind through the trees.

That is how Guynemer died. A month
later Guynemer' s friend met his vanquisher ;
destroying him, in kind. And what was
Guynemer but another D'Artagnan ? Ball
of the Flying Corps was another Athos ;
Richthofen a Teuton De Wardes. Over
Cambrai and Picardy and Waterloo they
refought the fatal encounters of their an-
cestors. One century came Wellington, with

THE AERIAL DUEL 277

horse and foot ; the next Bishop goes wing-
ing across the Flanders plains, in a frail
aeroplane. It is the modern expression of
the ineradicable thirst of men for personal
combat.

The most savage duellist of the war,
Boelke, whose letters to his parents proved
him to be without mercy or compassion,
died at the duel. Captain Ball, our great
" ace/' was brought down by a Hun star
who had shadowed him for months. The
Allies do not recognise these combats of
individuals officially; but the enemy makes
use of the exploits of her great flying men
for propaganda purposes in her own and
neutral countries. More famous of these
so-styled champions are Baron von Rich-
thofen, with sixty-four allied machines to
his credit ; Werner Moss of Crefeld, with
forty- seven ; the notorious Boelke, with forty ;
Lieutenant Wolf, with thirty- three ; and
Lieutenant Schafer, with thirty. Immelmann
had brought down twenty-eight Allied aero-
planes before himself being destroyed by a
British battleplane.

Comparing these totals — which it may be
mentioned include captive balloons, that

278 TAILS UP

our airmen never take into account — with
those of the crack French and British pilots,
the balance is easily on our side. Here is a
brief summary :

Captain McCudden, R.F.C. 57

Captain Ball, V.C. . . 53

Capt. Georges Guynemer . 51

Captain Bishop, V.C. . 47

Every one of these great fighters has
developed his own methods of attack. There
was no precedent to fall back on. Warneford
was the first of the British duellists. He
attacked, in a tiny monoplane, a giant Zeppe-
lin twenty times his size. It was a repetition
of David slaying Goliath. His official award
of the Victoria Cross was announced as :
"For destroying single-handed a German
Zeppelin. Afterwards, although forced to
descend on enemy soil, he succeeded in flying
back safely/'

Ball was the " Scarlet Pimpernel" of the
skies. He would wait above the clouds, at
a great altitude, watching the enemy aero-
dromes. Immediately a German aeroplane
would attempt to take the air, he would
dive for it and drive it to earth again. Some-

THE AERIAL DUEL 279

where below, British craft would be attacked
in overwhelming numbers. Again he would
swoop down on top of them, putting them to
flight.

In direct opposition to this code were
the methods of the Hun, Boelke. Of forty
air fights in which the latter participated,
it is said that ten were duels with men he
had challenged or been challenged by. Be-
cause his antagonists played the game, he
escaped from more than one encounter
which should have gone against him. Boelke
had no use for the rules of chivalry.

His plan was never to take any risks, but
to allow our pilots to assume the offensive.
And, in support of this theory, he once in-
formed a German newspaper man :

" It has been said that the German airmen
never fly over hostile lines, and that they
always remain over territory occupied by
their own troops. As regards chasing
machines, that is true ; but it should be
remembered, firstly, that our new machines
have some features which we ought to keep
to ourselves, and, secondly, that our object
is only to prevent hostile aeroplanes from
carrying out their observations. It is for

28o TAILS UP

these reasons that we prefer to wait for them
where we expect to meet them/'

Another method was that of the late Lieu-
tenant Immelmann, who would follow an
enemy machine from a great altitude, keep-
ing above him all the time. Then, when a
favourable opportunity presented itself, dive
straight for his tail, firing at him until he
was in close proximity. If the manoeuvre
were unsuccessful he would cover his own
retreat by continuing the dive and coming
out in a semicircular direction.

While von Richthofen, on the other hand,
always hunts with a small squadron at his
command. They fly in two lines. Above is
the leader, alone. Three other craft are
below. Immediately an Allied machine is
sighted, Richthofen climbs above the clouds,
while his consorts endeavour to surround the
hostile craft. When this has been accom-
plished successfully he dives straight at the
Allied machine, using his machine-gun all the
while.

A year or so before the war an Englishman
and his wife were sitting in one of the most
famous beer gardens in Berlin, when a
Prussian officer commenced to ogle her.

THE AERIAL DUEL 281

Annoyed with this unmannerly conduct, the
Englishman went over and remonstrated
with him. The interview terminated with
the Prussian getting a smart clout across
the head. There was a great flurry and to-do,
but for political reasons a duel was made
impossible and the Englishman returned to
his own home.

When the war broke out the Prussian
learnt that his adversary had become an
officer in the Flying Services, He managed
to get himself transferred to aviation, moved
by the one obsessive thought of finding that
Englishman some day and killing him.

Two years went by, and he came no nearer
to his ambition ; but it was observed that
the Prussian before attacking an Ally machine
invariably took extra risks by flying close
and by taking time to scrutinise carefully
the features of the enemy pilot. He killed,
when he could, without heat. Until at last
they met one summer's day, somewhere
down there, over the Somme. They say
the fight was one to remember. It went on
without a break, for over an hour. And
both were killed.

Sometimes it is a matter of military policy

282 TAILS UP

to seek out and destroy individuals, each as
dangerous as an army corps. Thus a sort of
splendid jealousy develops. Richthofen re-
sents the greatness of Bishop. It becomes
his or another German's obsession to find and
kill this troublesome rival. In one phrase
you have the ethics of aerial combat.

Georges Guynemer soared one morning to
seek a certain German who had annoyed
him. The story is told by an R.F.C. officer,
in a letter home.

" He and another officer/' he wrote, " went
out on Tuesday morning to hunt the Hun.
They were flying fairly high, somewhere
around 16,000 feet, I think, and Guynemer
went down a little way to attack a biplane,
while the lieutenant who was with him
stayed up to protect his rear.

" About that time eight Boche monoplanes
put in an appearance, and the lieutenant was
kept busy trying to worry them and keep
them from going down to the captain. He
succeeded, and none of the Boches dived
down, but in the general mix-up he lost
track of^ Guynemer and he has not been
heard from since.

" The loss of this man is very great, as he

THE AERIAL DUEL 283

was by all odds the greatest aviator and in-
dividual fighter the war has produced.

" As I have already written you, he was
very small and of frail appearance. I be-
lieve his health was very far from good, and
the high altitudes sometimes made him so
sick he had to come down. He would fly
for a week, then go away for a rest, as he
was not strong enough to stand any more.

"In the course of several hundred fights
he has been shot down seven times and twice
wounded. To keep at it under such circum-
stances and after all he had gone through,
a man's heart has to be in the right place.
He certainly deserved to live the rest of his
days in peace, and one hates to see a man
like that get it. Long immunity breeds a
contempt of danger, which is probably the
greatest danger of all."

All the world knows, Guynemer was killed
fighting. His body was found by a sergeant
of German infantry, lying by the roadside
with his battered machine. The Germans
afterwards erected a monument over the
spot.

Again this officer wrote :

" One of our cracks got square the other

284 TAILS UP

day with the man who is reported to have
killed Guynemer. This German was a cap-
tain and an observer in a biplane. The
observer is the man who handles the movable
machine-gun in a biplane.

" The Boche machine had flown from far
behind their lines to take pictures, but was
very high, over 20,000 feet, probably relying
largely upon his height for protection, for
an ordinary fighting plane will not go that
high. Our man, who is very expert and who
has been a pilot for a long time, was in a
particularly powerful machine, and was the
only one who saw the Boche who could get
up to him.

" He climbed up under and behind his
tail. Every time the Boche pilot would try
to turn in order to give his gunner a shot,
the Frenchman would slide around also,
always keeping the Hun's own tail between
himself and the machine-gunner, so that
the latter could not shoot without shooting
away his own controls.

"In this manner he got right on top of
the Boche, and at the first salvo put his
machine-gun out of business and probably
hit the gunner — that is, the captain who is

THE AERIAL DUEL 285

supposed to have shot Guynemer. After
that there was nothing to it. The second
dose the Frenchman gave him cut away
the supports of the wings on one side so that
they came out of position. The Hun flopped
over on his back and Guynemer' s supposed
slayer fell out of his machine, taking a nice
little tumble of 20,000 feet.

" The machine and pilot tumbled end over
end, and as they went by a number of French
machines waiting below, who had not been
able to get up, amused themselves by taking
pot shots at them/'

It is one story but typical of many. Bishop
has again returned to France after a well-
earned rest. McCudden was a youth of twenty-
three, who joined the Army, eight years ago,
as a private ; transferred to the Flying
Corps in 1912 ; where he was promoted
to captain, as a reward for some of the
most brilliant flying work of the war.
His total bag numbered fifty-seven Hun
machines, nine of which he brought down
in a fortnight, the remainder including forty-
seven two-seated Boches. Achilles pursuing
Hector around the walls of Troy is simply
Bishop seeking Richthofen among the clouds.

SAWBONE SOLILOQUIES

287

CHAPTER XVIII

SAWBONE SOLILOQUIES

THE perfect airman; who is he? What
are those especial qualifications that so harden
him to those unexpected dangers and nerve-
trying moments of flying? At what exact
age is he at his flying " prime " ? What are
his characteristics ? Should he be tall or
short ; light or heavy ? Is good eyesight
or hearing essential ? Which is to repeat
but a few of the queries that are crowding
the flying aspirant's mind, now that our aerial
cavalry are so much to the forefront of the
great battle.

Opinions on this matter vary to a con-
siderable degree. Only recently a British
Member of Parliament called attention to the
need for more efficient medical supervision
in the training of our airmen. This, he ex-
plained, was essential by reason of the
dangerous effect of high altitudes on very
19 289

290 TAILS UP

young men. And immediately afterwards
a well-known flying commander traversed
his opinion with the statement that " be-
ginners were never taken up to high altitudes
until they had had considerable experience
in flying/'

But the medico M.P.'s views were supple-
mented by the letter of another officer of
the R.A.M.C. to The Evening Standard :

" Man is an animal intended by Nature
to live on a ground level/' he wrote. " In
an aeroplane he can rapidly ascend 10,000 or
20,000 feet, and even more rapidly descend.

" During both the ascent and descent the
surface of the body is subject to very rapid
changes of pressure ; and unsuspected weak
spots are disclosed and peculiar deviations
from health observed.

" A comparable condition is observed in
divers and other persons who have to work
under high air pressures. When these per-
sons are relieved too suddenly of the pressure
under which they have been working, as
may easily arise in the case of a forced ascent
from deep water or a too rapid decompression
in an air-lock, a train of symptoms is pro-
duced which is known as ' Caisson Disease/

SAWBONE SOLILOQUIES 291

having its converse parallel in the case of an
airman making a rapid descent from a high
altitude."

This correspondent states that he was
surprised at the flight-commander's state-
ment that airmen do not care a button
whether they are flying at 1,0,000 or 6,000 feet.

" Men faint at high altitudes and experience
great difficulty in breathing, who on the
ground show no sign of trouble except to a
scientific eye. It is simply courting disaster
to attempt to ' fit by slow degrees ' such
men to such work. How many beginners
crashed under instruction/' he asks, " before
the scientist laid down the standards now
universally employed ? "

That perfect vision was the first essential
of the perfect airman was the agreement of
many prominent medical men and flyers,
who recently held a meeting at the Medical
Society of London to discuss this subject.

The principal speaker was a young naval
surgeon — aji ex-Harley-Street specialist-
Surgeon Graeme Anderson, who had had
considerable experience in examining air-
men since the beginning of the war, and also
holds a flying pilot's certificate. He related

292 TAILS UP

how, upon a certain occasion, he made an
experiment by going up as a passenger with
his ears plugged and his eyes blindfolded.

" I wanted to find out/' he said, " if I
could tell the movements of the machine
without seeing or hearing. After a while
we seemed to be going up and up, on an almost
even keel, but as a matter of fact we were
descending. . . . Only men almost perfect
from the physical point of view should be
allowed to fly/' he concluded, " and even
those accepted should be graded for flying at
different heights and then for different duties.

" Men who suffer from chilblains should be
passed only for low flying/' he went on,
" because chilblains are an indication that
they are not medically fit to rise to great
altitudes/' He deprecated the taking of
alcohol by pilots. " The action of a little
alcohol is intensified greatly by flying," he
added; " and while I have known men do
some amazing ' stunts ' under its influence,
it always beats them in the end. A man of
this kind retained on one of his worst days
a power of reasoning which, in spite of sleepi-
ness, made him decide not to attempt any
1 stunts/ So he set off for home — thirty

SAWBONE SOLILOQUIES

miles away. Over his aerodrome he per<-
formed almost unheard-of antics. Ultimately
he ' crashed/ and when he recovered con-
sciousness he said that until the last moment
he could remember he had stuck to his
resolve not to do ' stunts/ The perfect age
for flying is twenty-four/'

And later, Surgeon Anderson supple-
mented his views with an article in The
Illustrated Sunday Herald, as follows :

" Scarcely ten years ago the pioneer
aviators were looked upon as men possessing
some supernatural quality — the power to fly.

" All that is now changed.

" Man began to teach man, and the in-
stitution of the dual-control methods of
instruction, in which teacher and pupil fly
in the same aeroplane, each with a set of
controls acting in unison, paved the way for
many to learn flying.

" Hundreds of young Britons are now
passing straight from the school to the aero-
drome, and from the aerodrome to the
flying front.

" It is well to know something of the
aviator's duties in war-time. For the most
part, he has unusually comfortable quarters,

294 TAILS UP

a good bed and food, and has not to undergo
the long marches and discomforts of trench
life as in infantry work.

" He is usually out of range of enemy artil-
lery fire, although subject to hostile aircraft
attack. In bad flying weather he has much
leisure time. On the other hand, in the
few crowded hours of his daily work he
may come through the most intense strain
to which the human nervous system can be
subjected.

" As it has been aptly put, an aviator's
life consists of ' long spells of idleness,
punctuated by moments of intense fear.'
He has to face extremes in the elements —
intense cold, the sun's glare, rain, wind, fog,
and misty and gusty or bumpy weather.

" There is the incessant noise of the engine
— he may have long-distance patrols, in
which the imagination is given free play to
run riot, perhaps over the sea, with no land-
marks and the dread of engine failure ever
present in his mind.

" His visual acuteness is sharpened, always
on the look-out for hostile aircraft, watching
for and registering the flash of enemy guns,
taking photographs, noting movements of

SAWBONE SOLILOQUIES 295

enemy troops, rolling stock, submarines, or
other information of naval or military value,
and subjected to more or less accurate anti-
aircraft gunfire from the ground.

" Often he has to reach altitudes where
the available oxygen is reduced by one-half.
He may have constantly and rapidly to
change height, as in the modern aerial
fighting he may be opposing more than one
enemy machine. His judgment has to be
most accurate to perform the various intricate
aerial evolutions so as to outwit his opponent
and gain a favourable position to rake him
with machine-gun fire.

" He may have to loop, spin, dive, or side-
slip apparently out of control, in order to
deceive or to decoy his opponent over a
friendly gun or near a friendly formation.

" There is the subconscious dread of his
aeroplane catching fire in the air, and lastly,
and most exciting of all, the nerve-strain of
contour chasing or ground strafing in which
he attacks the enemy on the ground from a
low height of perhaps twenty feet to fifty feet.

" For the past three and a half years I
have lived with aviators, flown with them,
and entered for the most part into their

296 TAILS UP

interests, studying them alike in squadrons,
in aeroplane, seaplane, and airship stations,
and in hospitals specially devoted to their
maladies.

" Let me here pay a tribute to our flying
men, ' that nothing is too good for them,
and it is up to us as a profession to strive in
every way we can to safeguard them from
disease, and should disease overtake them,
to find the means to restore them to health
again/

" We can help in this matter by knowing
the requirements of the aviator's life, by
studying the psychology and physiology of
flying, and by investigating the maladies
commonly found amongst flying men.

" In eliminating the unfit, and as man-
power is an ever-increasing problem, I would
suggest the institution of a special flying
school where ' border-line ' pupils could be
instructed in flying under patient and sym-
pathetic instructors, and with a medical
officer specially interested in aviation care-
fully recording the results.

" Such records would be invaluable to us
in confirming or modifying the present stan-
dards of fitness required for air work.

SAWBONE SOLILOQUIES 297

" The modern aviator's work is becoming
more and more specialised, and here again
we can help by framing standards of fitness
graded by the various flying duties.

" In selecting candidates for the Air Service,
what is looked for is a sound constitution,
free from organic disease, and a fairly strong
physique in order to withstand altitude
effects, such as cold, fatigue, and diminished
oxygen. It is essential that there should
be normal hearing and good muscle and
equilibration sense.

" As the aviator is so much dependent on
his eyesight, too much importance cannot
be laid on this part of the examination. But
next to vision, and most important of all
in obtaining the best aviator, is the question
of temperament.

"Undoubtedly there is a particular tem-
perament or aptitude for flying, and its
distribution is particularly interesting,
whether looked upon from its racial aspect
or its relation to health, life, and habits.
Unfortunately this temperament is a difficult
matter to estimate clinically, and especially
so in the examining room.

" The ideal aviator must have good judg-

298 TAILS UP

ment, be courageous, and not upset by fear,
although conscious of the perils of his work.
He must be cool in emergencies, able to
make careful and quick decisions, and act
accordingly. His reaction times must never
be delayed ; he must be ever alert, as mental
sluggishness in flying spells disaster.

" Whether he should be imaginative or
not is a difficult question to settle — one
meets many of both types. I am inclined
to think that the pilot with imagination, yet
able to keep it well under control, makes the
better pilot.

"With regard to the relation of habits
in this special aptitude for flying, it is found
most commonly amongst those used to play-
ing games and leading an outdoor life. The
yachtsman and the horseman, with their
fine sense of judgment and ' lighter hands/
should make the most skilful pilots.

" The Germans always selected their
aviators from their cavalry until recently.
It was thought that racing motorists would
make the best pilots, but this has not been
proved to be the case.

" Every now and again one meets a type
with splendid physique and apparently un-

SAWBONE SOLILOQUIES 299

shakable courage who learns to fly indiffer-
ently or is unable to learn at all, and again
one meets the weedy, pale type learning to
fly quickly and turning out to be a first-rate
pilot.

" In the surgical examination the age,
height, weight, and general physique are
considered. The age should be between
eighteen and thirty. Under eighteen and
up to twenty, caution and well-balanced
judgment may be lacking ; twenty-four is
about the best age; and over thirty-three
the candidate, although quite able to learn
to fly, does not stand the nerve strain of air
work so well. Cody learned to fly at forty-
seven, and was flying regularly till he met
his death when fifty- two years of age.

" Naturally, the lighter the candidate the
better, but in modern times, with the in-
creased speed and climb of aeroplanes, this
does not count so much as formerly.

" As a general rule, those whose previous
occupation has been of an outdoor nature,
and those who have been accustomed to
playing outdoor games, make the better
aviators — although, as in most things, the
exceptions to the rule are to be found in

300 TAILS UP

the thoughtful, quiet, student type who rarely
play any games, yet surprise everyone by their
rapidity in learning to fly, and in developing
' light hands/ and conversely we meet the
type who learn to fly without difficulty,
and develop hands like hams as far as
piloting an aeroplane is concerned.

" An inquiry is made into the candidate's
habits, especially in relation to tobacco and
alcohol, although very little real knowledge
is gained in the examining room. Most
flying men smoke a great deal, and very few
are strict teetotallers.

" I firmly believe that to the aviator
excess in alcohol will ultimately beat him.
And it is obvious that defective eyesight or
colour vision or imperfect hearing may lead
a pilot to death."

L' ENVOI

CHAPTER XIX

L' ENVOI

O. HENRY, quietly ambling through life,
plumbing the depths of Humanity's being;
Mr. Britling, that all-wise philosopher, sitting
by his night-desk at quiet Dunmow, alter-
nately watching and wondering at the great
world run riot, careering around him with
a chaos of conflicting emotions, — may have
penned a similar story, and — with the grey
dawn — consigned it to his capacious waste-
basket as insufficient — lacking in reality
and local colour.

It was for some unknown Belgian woman
— untricked in the craft of letters — to present
that one story of the air to a breathless world.
It was only a matter of a few lines, but its
spirit was that of nineteen long centuries of
men and heroes ; Empire builders all. She
enclosed it with a snapshot of a shattered
British aeroplane, a pitiful heap of smoulder-

303

304 TAILS UP

ing ashes and distorted metal, and she
wrote :

" What a pity such heroes should have to
die ! They could have escaped, but pre-
ferred to fight to a finish. Never have I
seen such gallant resistance before. . . . The
two heroes were buried with military honours/'

The scene flashes away again. It has all
the rapid changing and many-sided phases
of the realm of sky they serve. This time
there is a haunting memory of some epic of
the past ; a suggestion of the muffled roll
of drums for some doughty old warrior of
the Peninsular Wars. But this is more
poignant in its sorrow, more simple in its
execution. "If any music is played at my
funeral/' he had demanded, somewhat whim-
sically— proud in the strength of his buoyant
youth—" let it be the ' March of the Men of
Harlech.' " Ten days later, he had flown
west to the Valhalla of the airman, beyond
the racing clouds ; an almost unrecognisable
figure, blackened and disfigured by the sudden
hell of flaming petrol, as his 'plane plunged
headlong for the earth.

As I piece together these so- varied stories,
often the thought comes flashing into my

L'ENVOI 305

mind, " Could Dumas and Swift have some-
how come together in that great world be-
yond, and collaborated ; these their joint
effusions?" But they could never have
supplied the climax. Edgar Allen Poe must
have had a hand in that. And even his
wizardry stands me in poor stead, when I
remember the tragic scene of which I was
an unwilling spectator, now some two years
ago.

It was at sunset ; one of those red-gold
sunsets of Kent. The broad sweep of green
aerodrome and the broader sweep of blue
sky beyond were alive with darting aircraft,
" upstairs" for the last time before night-
fall. One by one, they came slithering home
again, until but one remained.

How, when, or why exactly it happened,
none can say. But as this last 'plane came
nosing down to the landing-ground, another
craft from the far end rushed up into the
air. Too late they tried to warn him. At
a height of just over the level of the shed-
roofs the two machines crashed into one
another. There was a sudden unnerving
jar, that seemed to echo across the quiet
fields for miles around ; a tearing and a
20

306 TAILS UP

rending, as of a thousand rushing wings,
and a second later two ugly heaps lay in
adjacent fields.

There was a pilot and an observer in one,
and a pilot in the other machine, a fighting
scout. All were dead !

Bad luck, you may call it, or maybe fate.
But there is an unbelievable element of the
sway of that capricious little god where
flying is concerned. Ask any airman of
your acquaintance, or take note of the follow-
ing :

" Flying — to be more correct, ' getting off '
from the ground, and when still at a height
of only between 200 and 300 feet above the
surface — the engine of a 'plane went off
dead. Down she came, almost in a ' nose-
dive/ and struck a tree with her wing,
whirling round and round.

" In the air the human mind moves rapidly.
In the brief space of time that had been
permitted him, the pilot, seeing his danger,
had unclasped his belt and leapt out,
escaping with nothing more than a shaking.
His machine meanwhile had dashed to the
ground and turned turtle. Had he remained
in her, he would have been killed/'

L'ENVOI 307

Erwin Haertl was a Hun ; but for that,
a sportsman and a man. He died from
wounds behind his own lines after having,
a few minutes before, at 9,000 feet in the air,
brought down a British pilot. Half-way
through the fight he was mortally wounded,
but nevertheless stuck it to the end— though
he had to stand up in his machine, and knew
that it meant certain death to do so.

Rudyard Kipling must have taken that
story to his heart. And how he must have
revelled in that other reported by the war
correspondent of the Petit Parisien, that
went :

" We were passing through the Loziere
Wood, west of Ailly-sur-Noye, when a British
aeroplane fell down 300 metres away from
us. The motor caught fire, and in a moment
the machine was enveloped in flames. In
the furnace, strapped to his seat and motion-
less, was the pilot, a very young officer, almost
a lad. His head reclined on his shoulder,
and in his pale face the half-closed eyes gave
no sign of life. But he was still alive, and
when consciousness returned he showed great
surprise at finding himself in the house where
he had been immediately conveyed. In what

3o8 TAILS UP

a terrible drama had this unfortunate lad
played during the space of but a few
minutes !

" He had been on a reconnoitring trip
and was flying very low to spy the enemy's
positions, when eight German aeroplanes
dashed at him. He rose immediately, simu-
lated flight, and then by splendid manoeuvring
sent three of the enemy spinning to earth.
At that moment he felt a sharp pain in the
head. A machine-gun bullet had struck
him. Others whistled by his ears, and a
second broke his collarbone. His head swam,
and the buzzing of the engines deafened all
sound.

" Yet a third bullet tore through the
young officer's neck, and three more struck
him in various parts of the body. He could
do no more, and shot for earth. Though
bleeding from many wounds and hardly
able to hold up his head, he still retained
enough command over the machine to avoid
capsizing it, and so came to ground/ '

But perhaps the most poignant incident of
all was when Sergeant Thomas Mottershead
of the old R.F.C. went up to his death.
True, he was awarded a posthumous V.C.

L'ENVOI 309

But what was the Bronze Cross in comparison
to such a deed ?

At 9,000 feet he was set upon and out-
numbered by Hun machines. Fighting gal-
lantly, one of the enemy bullets pierced the
petrol-tank of his 'plane, and immediately it
caught fire.

" Enveloped in flames, which his observer,
Lieutenant Gower, was unable to subdue,
this very gallant soldier succeeded in bring-
ing his aeroplane back to our lines; and
though he made a successful landing, the
machine collapsed on touching the ground,
pinning him beneath the wreckage, from
which he was subsequently rescued. Though
suffering extreme torture from burns, Ser-
geant Mottershead showed the most con-
spicuous presence of mind in the careful
selection of a landing-place, and his wonder-
ful endurance and fortitude undoubtedly
saved the life of his observer. He has since
died from his wounds,' '

And so to the end. Jules Verne must
have taken part in this great flight ; if not
in person, at least in spirit. But his lips
have long since been closed; and it was left
to Mr. Handley-Page, the famous manu-

3io TAILS UP

facturer of more famous aeroplanes, to tell
it for him.

It is the story of a British bomber that
flew from London to Constantinople ; and,
after ravaging that mysterious city of domes
and minarets, came safely home again.

Officially the affair was mentioned in a
Press Bureau message, November i6th, 1917,
that:

" At Constantinople our machines, in spite
of heavy anti-aircraft fire, dropped to a
height of 800 feet to attack the Goeben.
The first salvo of four bombs missed the
ship, but hit some submarines and destroyers
moored alongside her. The second salvo
hit the Goeben a little forward of amidships,
causing a large explosion and a big con-
flagration. Our machines then bombed the
General, in which the German headquarters
at Constantinople are reported to be situated.
Bombs were dropped from a height of 1,300
feet, and two direct hits were secured on
the stern of the ship. The next object of
attack was the War Office, on which two
direct hits were observed in the centre of
the building. The Turkish Minister at Berne
has made a statement in reference to these

L'ENVOI 311

air attacks, in which he acknowledges that
the War Office at Constantinople and a
destroyer were hit,". ' a certain amount of
damage being done/ '

Mr. Handley-Page gave a somewhat fuller
story, at a dinner held in London to celebrate
the event. He said that :

" Setting out from Hendon, the company
of five reached Paris, and flew through
France down the Rhone valley to Lyons,
and on to Marseilles. From Marseilles they
flew to Pisa, and thence to Rome. The
battleplane then proceeded to Naples, and
on to Otranto. Crossing the Albanian Alps,
the aviators flew on to Salonica, and thence
to their base to prepare for the final stages
of the trip to Constantinople, which involved
flying 250 miles over a hostile country under
conditions equally arduous as that of Chavez's
flight across the Alps.

" While flying across the Albanian Alps
the airmen could see the hostile Bulgarian
horsemen chasing them, in the hope that
their machine might be forced to descend
and give the crew as prisoners into their
hands. Cross winds, clouds, and all kinds
of atmospheric disturbances rendered the

3i2 TAILS UP

latter portion of the voyage most difficult
and perilous. The mountain peaks range
from 8,000 feet to 10 000 feet, in height.
Happily the engines never failed for one
moment, and even with the heavy load on
board there was never the slightest fear on
the part of the pilots that any trouble would
arise.

" After a short rest at their base, and
careful overhauling of the machine, the
airmen set out on what was the culminating
achievement of their wonderful flight. The
bombing of the Turkish capital was done
at night. A two-and-a-half hours' journey
brought the two pilots and engineer left to
man the aeroplane over the Sea of Marmora,
and straight up the Sea of Marmora they
headed for the attack on the Goeben and the
Turkish capital itself.

" Constantinople was reached when flying
at a height of 2,000 feet, and there, lying
beneath them, could be seen the Goeben with
all lights on and men walking on deck.
Constantinople itself was brilliantly illumin-
ated. The Golden Horn was clearly sil-
houetted.

" Once the aeroplane flew along a line

L'ENVOI 313

parallel with the Goeben, so as accurately to
determine its speed and give the necessary
data for bombing. Circling twice, the machine
dived down to 800 feet, and a salvo of four
bombs was released. The first salvo missed
the Goeben, but exploded against one or two
submarines lying at its side. Again the
aviators flew around, in order to make certain
of their aim, and this time they hit the
Goeben with four bombs.

' The dropping of the eight bombs seemed
to disconcert the Turks, for all lights sud-
denly went out. The pilots then made off
towards the Golden Horn, and dropped
two more bombs on the ship called the
General, which was the headquarters of the
German General Staff. Finally, they flew
over the Turkish capital, and dropped two
more bombs on the Turkish War Office,
which, in the words of the Turkish com-
munique, ' was not destroyed/ — having been
over Constantinople thirty minutes alto-
gether.

'Now by this time considerable alarm
seems to have been caused in Constantinople,
and guns which had not been previously fired
were now directed upon the aeroplane. In

314 TAILS UP

fact, the flight back to the Sea of Marmora,
when Lieutenant McClellan took charge, was
accompanied by a fusillade of shrapnel and
explosive shells, and on arrival at the base
it was found that no fewer than twenty-six
bullets had penetrated the machine. One
lucky shot partially disabled part of the oiling
system of one engine, and the return flight
was carried out with the second engine
alone."

PRINTED IK GREAT BRITAIN

BY HAZELL, WATSON AND VINEY, LD., LONDON AND ATLESBURT,
TOR SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, HAMILTON, KENT & CO., LTD.

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